Stereotype? No, Thank You
by squishtheorange
Summary: Naruto: Emo? Punk? Japanese Freak? He's got trouble finding himself. Doesn't help when his heart starts beating for his gay best friend. High School. SasuNaru.
1. It's fresh

Forgot this the first time.

**DISCLAIMER: **I don't own Naruto.

**WARNINGS: **Shounen Ai and mild language

* * *

Here I am; typical teenager with a typical, high school lifestyle. I'm a seventeen year old, no nonsense, guitar playing punk, but please; don't stereotype me.

You see, I'm a big fan of the movies. Chick flicks, thrillers, high-speed-action-packed spy get-ups… Anything can get my juices going in the movie world, but for me, horror's where it's at. Now recently, I've had one of those big, never-noticed-_that_-before revolutions. You know how, in high school films, they've divided students into overused cliques? Of course you do. You've got your, ever so commonly named, 'Plastics', 'Nerds', and 'Jocks'. You may be going "_Duuurh_" right now however, it may be because I've been born and raised in Britain, but no school I've been to actually has those stereotypes.

Right now, it all seems to be about the 'Gangsters', 'Rockers' and the 'Smart n' Quirky'.

At least, that's what it's like in Konoha High.

Here, those groups are sub-divided into even more groups, and then maybe split again! And call me a teenager, but I think I may be hitting a mid-life personality crisis with all these people screaming different things at me.

So. I'm a punk in the sense that I can stir up a lot of trouble, but am I a Mohican headed type of punk?

I'm not sure.

But I know one thing for certain.

Sasuke is my best friend.

Don't laugh, you fuckers. I'm having a sentimental moment.

Sasuke's a guy who'll stick by me through thick and thin, and oh! Here he comes now.

"Eyop, Sasuke!"

"Hello," he raised a straight palm in greeting, keeping that cool, bored look on his face.

"So. Got any plans, today?"

"Oh yes, of course. We're going to knock down this old vent here," he smacked the little grey box in the wall twice, "crawl through it on our hands and knees and emerge out the other side into the girl's changing room where we'll sneak around, stealing all their sexy, little panties on the way."

"Prfffggh!"

If this was any other guy, I probably wouldn't have been spraying saliva all over my shirt sleeve, holding in my laughter. But this was Sasuke. The guy with no facial muscles, oh and did I mention?

He's the gayest man ever to walk this earth.

He comes up with this stuff everyday, and I still find it as funny as fuck. God, I'm an easy-pleaser.

"And…prff… And then we'll hole ourselves up into that there corner of the cafeteria and sniff the delicious scent of pleasure juices and menstruation, right?" I gave a suggestive smirk, nudging his elbow.

His face remained as dead-looking as ever.

"No. Then we'll hole ourselves up into that there corner of the cafeteria and _I'll fuck your brains out_."

This made me pause for a fraction of a second.

Don't get the wrong idea here! Sasuke has _not _got the hots for me. I mean, come on, that's just not the way it works, right?

"_Then _we'll sniff the delicious scent of pleasure juices," he continued.

I suppose he noticed that slight freaked-out vibe coming off me. It happens a lot. He'll say something that I'm not so comfortable with, but he'll sense it and step back behind the boundary, usually by making me laugh like an idiot. Not that I really mind when that happens, but it really does show a nicer, underlying side to that lovely crude-humoured Sasuke that I see everyday.

"And menstruation?" I asked, looking hopeful. I had every urge to add a sugar-coated '_Please!' _to that.

Saying that was sort of my way of forgiving him, saying "It's okay. I still love you (as the bestest friend anyone could have, mind you.)".

"And menstruation," he confirmed, giving a nod and a smile.

I beamed, great and big and grabbed his hand, skipping through the lunch time corridors, "Come now! Let's frolic through the flowers!"

I dragged him outdoors into the school grounds where indeed, there were flowers, but sadly, we weren't going to frolic through them, not today and probably not ever. It will always remain just a distant dream…

That is, if those big groups of people decide to hang out by those just-dying-to-be-frolicked-through-flowers forever. I mean, I don't want to sound like a complete wuss, but I really hate being judged, especially by seven different cliques of people simultaneously. Living out my dream would surely induce that.

You see, by the daisies, you have, the self-named 'Nerdwhores'. You know what I'm talking about, right? Those people who wear super thick-framed glasses, beige tank tops, button-up shirts and red ties, in all their nerdy glory, and yet, manage to think that it's appropriate to slip on a pleated tartan skirt that's fucking ten inches long!

That's the same size as Sasuke's di-

"So, when're we gonna get down to some frolicking?" Sasuke's enquiring voice disturbed me from my thoughts about his… phallus. The bastard even had this look on his face that told me he knew I was thinking something terribly naughty about him.

"Never," I sighed. "You know how I feel about…" I paused, gesturing to all those different people around us with a flappy motion of my hand, "…_them._"

And he did know. I don't even remember when we got so close to each other, but I've poured my heart out to him a couple times, and he knows all about my silly insecurities.

"You're an idiot, Naruto," he said in all truth, looking up at the sky through the leaves of the oak tree we had settled under.

That's what I love about Sasuke. He was one of those few people who didn't give a fuck's ass about what other people thought. Every time I remember that, it makes me wonder how I got to be so lucky to nab him as my best friend in the whole fucking world. It also makes me wonder why he still bothers to hang about me, when I constantly whinge about my fear of being judged every second of the day. I know he's trying to get me to forget about everyone else, and I know he's awfully right, but I really, seriously, can't bring myself to just drop the thought that everyone who looks at me has the potential to assume things about me they never even know. I annoy myself, and that's bloody pathetic.

"God, we look like such losers," I murmured, resting my head against the trunk of the tree to join Sasuke's observation of the sky. "Are we ever gonna get bigger than just the two of us?"

Sasuke blinked up to the clouds.

"Do you ever want it to get bigger than just the two of us?"

No. I don't. I want Sasuke to just be _my _friend. Why did I even ask that?

It felt like I needed to make an outburst, a "No! Of course not!", but all I could manage was a shake of my head.

"Well if you ever do, maybe those Japanese freaks over there will welcome you into their wonderful world of manga, brightly coloured hair and peace, slash victory, hand signs." He half-smirked, and I knew he understood.

I breathed a chuckle, deciding to ignore the fact that he had indirectly implied he wouldn't be coming along with me, or at least, I had inferred that.

"Sasuke, _you _are Japanese, and you _know _you are stereotyping, and you _know _I hate that…" I paused, but decided to add one last thing. "Fucker."

He gave a single chuckle. One of those "Heh" chuckles that made his shoulders bounce, and the conversation died out into comfortable silence.

I took a look at all those people surrounding us.

On a bench by some tree, there were the supposed 'Gangsters'… oh, I'm sorry, I mean 'Gees'. They sat there, the guys with clothes that were five sizes too big, and the girls with clothes that were five sizes too small, listening to some heavy bass music blaring from one of their mobile phones. The guys sat there with their legs spread a metre apart from each other, each one of them with an arm around some girl who was chewing gum, and they all gave hard looks to anyone who would give them a second glance.

If I belonged to any clique, I certainly didn't belong with them.

I looked over at Sasuke with his tight drainpipe jeans, his hooded top from Skeleton Crew, which gave the illusion you were looking through his flesh and at his ribcage, his studded belt that he wrapped around his slim hips, and the line of eyeliner under his black eyes.

He looked pretty cool, didn't he?

"What?" he asked with his gaze still up at the clouds.

"Nothing," I said, as innocently as I could. "Just wondering how emo you look."

He said nothing, but the middle finger he raised up in my face said it all.

I chuckled again.

You must be wondering why Sasuke doesn't hang around with all other 'emo' kids in our school. To be honest, I'm wondering too. It's times like these when I realise that Sasuke's way fucking cool. Too cool to hang around with some insecure dork who has trouble being himself at all times.

I mean, I know everyone always tells you to 'just be yourself'. But how can I do that when I don't know who I am?

Fuck, this is getting too deep for me. Philosophical shit is Neji's shit, not mine.

Well, I guess if people were to look at the way I dress and the music I listen to, they'd probably label me as an emo. And really, I _feel _for all those supposed emos out there. Lately, it's automatically assumed that if you've got a side fringe, tight jeans and listen to a certain kind of music, then you cut yourself. And people hate you for that.

To me, that's fucking ridiculous.

Personally, I think emos are pretty, y'know, hot. I mean, just look at Sasuke! Not that I'm calling him emo. He just looks like one… but does that make him an actual emo?

What the fuck defines emo anyway?

And what am I? A Japanese freak? A punk? An emo?

My GOD! This is getting way out of hand. I promised myself I wouldn't get into this whole debate.

But really. Sometimes, I do wonder if I'll ever be truly happy with what I am, once I find out who I am.

…

Oh my. I do believe Sasuke's gay charm and Neji's philosophy has rubbed off on me, because that is, by far, the gayest, most philosophical thing I've ever thought.

I think I need to give that whole personality crisis rant a rest. I'll just try my best to spend time with Sasuke, I guess. He's the one guy who can make me forget about all those things.

"Hey, Sasuke."

He turned to me with a look that said nothing.

I curved my hands and put them together to make a heart, putting it over my left breast. I gave him a big, fat grin. I wasn't serious about this crap. I guess you could say I was mocking those who did it, but that isn't exactly the right way of putting it. It wasn't making fun of them.

I suppose only Sasuke could understand the attitude I had behind it.

He actually laughed out loud a little, said, "You sentimental fucker", placed his left breast over my hand-heart and whispered in my ear, "Love you too".

Even though I can feel it through my flesh, through my t-shirt, through my fingers, through the thumping in my brain… My heart isn't beating hard and fast. That's not the way I'm supposed to react.

Fuck! Please, heart, stop pumping blood faster than you should, you're making me flustered. Stop making me feel this way about my best fucking friend! Stop before you give me more to worry about. Please!

He was stepping way over the line this time, and I'm pretty sure he knew he was. He's getting quite brave these days. But did I really mind this?

And thank god Sasuke moved away before I could even think about what my feelings had grown to. That bastard looked down on me with a smug sort of grin, almost like he knew exactly how I was feeling. Shit, I hope he didn't.

"Gay yet?"

I gaped a little.

Then growled a little.

"Sasuke, you fucker!"

* * *

Alright, so. Reviews will, of course, be appreciated greatly, but this time, I'm writing this story more for myself than for anything else, so this _will _get continued, with or without twenty reviews, or however many writers are bribing for these days. 

Though, perhaps they _will _help me update faster…

Bribe? Yes, please.


	2. It's jealousy

My, THANK YOU ALL FOR THE REVIEWS! I tried to reply to all the reviews that I could. I hope you got them! I didn't really expect such a grrrand response, but thank you ever so much! Here's the next chapter, quicker than expected.

* * *

Yesterday. That was _when_ it happened. 

Under that tree in the field of my unlived dreams. That was _where_ it happened.

Well, **_what_** happened, you ask?

Do I _have_ to say?

Ehm… well…

Sasuke _may_ have just…y'know…

…My god…

…Alright… Sasuke _may _have just opened a... err… **gay side to me. **

_That's_ what happened.

I know. Fuck, right? Just… Fuck.

How does shit like that just _happen?!_

Homosexuality isn't contagious, is it? I mean, it's not possible for a hot gay guy to just touch you the right way, and _poof! (1) _You're magically gay too…is it?

I'm really starting to doubt it all.

All I know is that, even though it was the simplest kind of touch, the closeness of his body, the hotness of his breath… all of him made my body do things it shouldn't, especially when _he _was touching me. A guy. My best friend.

It's not just me who thinks that's fucked up, and I'm sure of that.

Well, yeah. I've been wondering if I should y'know, confide in Sasuke about what I've been feeling. Usually, if it was anything else – anything at all – I wouldn't hesitate to tell him all about it if I thought he would be interested enough. But this...

This is _wrong, _isn't it? Not so much the homosexual part (oh, come on. _Sasuke's _my fucking homie!), but the part that reminds me that it's Sasuke whose making me feel like this. The guy I've been really close _friends _with for what, eight years?

That's just not how the cookie's supposed to crumble.

It's Saturday night, eight o' clock, and I'm off to the cinema with, you fucking guessed it, Sasuke.

It's like a weekly ritual. Every Saturday, he picks me up at eight, drives us off to the local cinema and we watch anything that tickles our fancy.

But this time, I have a feeling it's going to be awkward, at least on my part. If he asks me what's wrong, which, thankfully, has a very slim chance of happening; I really won't know what to say.

I locked the door behind me, slid into the passenger's seat of Sasuke's black, slightly battered, car and we were off on the road, driving steadily to the cinema where a good excuse for not talking to him for a good couple hours laid waiting.

As I listened to Enter Shikari thrumming through the air and into my brain, I could feel Sasuke look at me, then back on the road, switching back and forth rather rapidly. What's he doing?

Rather suddenly, he lay back in his seat and swung his legs as far as part from each other as they would go with those jeans tight enough to be considered bondage material. "Oi, blad," he said, with the right twinge of accent and attitude and his gaze finally firmly fixed on the road.

Damn, I can't help but grin when he does that, even despite my uneasiness. Sasuke doing Gee impressions always had been something that could and would make me snort like a pig on crack. Snort whilst laughing, that is. I'm a proud snorter, I am.

"Don' get all aggy when I tell you dis, yer?" he said, putting almost a Southern American drawl on his voice. He even picked his hand up from the gear stick and did those ever so gangsta hand movements for a few seconds.

The awkward feeling I had had was lifting up from my stomach, replaced instead with the pure urge to laugh like an idiot at Sasuke's impressive show. It was practically raining spit in here. I just couldn't keep it all in! Really, would _you _have been able to keep a straight face?

"Coz I know you will, eiver way. I just know dese fingz, init."

I had spent my every effort keeping in that bubble of mirth, but it finally burst.

Oh, dear god! Was something even allowed to be this funny? Because I am fucking laughing. If you could see this, you'd be pissing your pants along with me, like, for real dawg.

"So yer. I met dis guy, yer. And…"

I noticed him pause through all my hard laughing, but I couldn't stop long enough to be suspicious.

"And I fink he's sum buff ting, y'know? And I guess he fought I was pretty choong too, coz now…" here, he stopped his whole charade, whipped his legs closer together again, and looked me straight in the eye.

If there was anything that could stop me laughing at this point, it was that freakishly serious look in his eyes. I froze, looking back at him, smile half-dropped. It was almost frightening me, but the thought he fed me of a Gay Gee earlier prevented that.

"Naruto," he dropped the accent and I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be laughing anymore. "I want you to meet my boyfriend."

…What?

"He's waiting for us at the cinema tonight."

You planned this without telling me, Sasuke?! Since when did you even have a boyfriend?!

"You don't mind… do you?"

I felt his fingers give my jaw a little shove to close my mouth that I had left open after my fit of laughter.

"… No… No, I don't."

He smiled, and it made me wonder why I'm not so happy for him.

Unh… It's probably that gay part of me that was just discovered by Sasuke. Just some kind of after-effect, I guess.

The crunk of the handbrake and the abrupt cut-off from the throaty screams of 'Sorry You're Not A Winner' signified our arrival to Konoha's Cineworld. I stepped out, Sasuke locked his car, and we walked side by side, together with our hoods up, towards the entrance. He turned to look at me for a few seconds, and I think I still saw a little grin on his face. Even though I knew why he was pretty happy, it still was kinda freaky seeing Sasuke just smile for a long period of time.

"Thanks, Naruto." His breath fogged the air in front of his face.

I smile, only slightly, because I just can't get my face to move the muscles any higher, and that makes me feel guilty.

We walked a couple more steps and ambled through the door where the warm heat from the heating washed over us, almost like a blanket, but without the weight. I saw Sasuke's small smile widen a fraction, and he raised a straight palm, keeping the rest of his body still and slightly hunched, just like he always greets me.

A lanky man strode out from besides a leafy plant and up to Sasuke. If ever there was a personification of sex, he (and Sasuke, heh) was it. He was as tall as Sasuke, higher than me by half a head, and he bumped his forehead onto Sasuke's where he left it there, slightly hidden by Sasuke's large hood. They both smiled slightly to each other when Sasuke placed his hands on the pale hipbones that jutted out slightly from his lover's tight, tight, jeans. The redhead placed his thin lips upon Sasuke's, open-mouthed, and then sucked on his upper lip, letting Sasuke mouth his bottom lip.

I looked away.

Great. Third wheel stardom, here I come.

Maybe they'll be done after I go get some popcorn.

"Who's blondie?"

I turned to look back at them. Thank god, they had pulled away, but they still held each other's hips in their hands.

"Naruto," Sasuke replied. "I told you about him already, remember?"

I smiled a bit. Partly as greeting to the redhead, and partly because I guess I'm a bit happy that Sasuke talks about me.

"Eyop," I nodded at him with a grin and my hands in my pockets.

Sasuke let go of his hips, trailing his fingers across to his hand, grabbed it and looked at me.

"This is Gaara," Sasuke smirked. "Say hello, Gaara."

"Hello."

I beamed up at him again, or I tried to. It just seems like my facial muscles decided to take a break today.

We went up to the counter, bought tickets for Saw 3 and made our way to the screen room with bags of popcorn and drinks in hand. We sat in a row somewhere near the middle with Sasuke in between us and me on the edge seat.

Easy escape route.

I wanted to watch this movie, I really did. But when it got to somewhere near half an hour into the film, I just couldn't concentrate anymore. All the little things I started to notice are bugging me. Like how Sasuke and Gaara share their popcorn, whilst I'm left with my own. How they're sitting the same way, whilst my own pigeon-toed feet are set awkwardly. And fucking hell, even how they both have the palest skin in the world, when I'm as brown as I'll ever get. Why does that even bother me now?!

Every time I see them from the corner of my eye, everything they do, every how they look like screams "_You're not a part of this, Naruto"_.

Oh, god. And now they're just plain making out right fucking next to me!

How can I not have expected this to happen?

I probably shouldn't be here anymore. It's not like I can watch the movie with those pants and grunts emanating from that tangle of bodies beside me.

"I'm going to the toilet," I whispered, though I really doubt either of them heard me.

And I stepped down the steps out of the screen room and leant my forehead on the cool wall outside.

This was all just awful fucking timing, wasn't it? Just when Sasuke, my closest ever friend, makes me realise that, just maybe, a part of myself is gay; he asks me to meet his boyfriend. And who am I to say no? Already, I had been so fucking confused about all this stereotypical nonsense, about where I belonged and how I belonged, but I had been kept from being led away by some clique into a world of fake joy and shit, because Sasuke had been the stable, constant, best friend in my life. Sasuke is definitely the person who keeps me from going insane even before all those different cliques started giving me different ideas about life.

But now that he's shown me Gaara…

I guess I've realised that he could slip away from me, just like that. I don't want to sound like I'm not trusting Sasuke's, I guess, loyalty in me, but he could have so much more to focus on than me.

I'm a selfish fucker. I know that. And I know I want Sasuke for _myself_. He knows that. We discussed it briefly under that tree yesterday.

So… I guess, maybe I should put more faith in him. But I still can't shake this feeling of…

**Jealousy.**

That's what it is.

But it seems all I've been doing is taking from Sasuke, and I still don't feel satisfied that I've got enough.

Fuck, I'm such a bad man. A bad, bad, man.

What am I supposed to do now?

"Ah, sir. Is something wrong?"

It was a cinema patroller, short and freckled.

"No… No, I'm good."

"Okay, sir. But would it be okay if you waited outside, please?"

"Yeah…Sure," I answered, and I made my way out.

"Thank you," the boy called after me.

I stepped out of the cinema's warm heat, and back into the biting cold, putting my hood up.

I guess I'll walk home tonight.

(1) – Oh, pun _definitely _intended.

* * *

So. I hope that keeps you interested enough to keep reading. 

And, please. If you spot any kind of mistakes, please tell me. I kinda rushed this one to get it out. I'm staying up late on a school night, y'know. What a rebel I am, ha.


	3. It's happiness

Alright, so this is probably the rate that chapters are gonna get spun out now, perhaps even slower. Sorry, heh. But please be patient and enjoy!

* * *

It's dark outside.

The street lights give off an eerily golden glow as they speed past on the highway, leaving streaks of blurry light behind my eyelids. Crusty leaves lay on the ground, dead and waiting for that wind to sweep them up and away. I looked up as an elderly man took the seat beside me and set his bags on the floor, heaving a sigh. Shifting over a bit to make more space, I checked what time it was on my phone.

It's nine o' clock, and I'm on a bus, having given up walking home after realising I couldn't muster enough brain power to figure out my way home _and _think about Sasuke at the same time.

Fucking Sasuke.

I don't even know why I'm mad at him, and that just makes it all the more worse. I don't understand why I get this incredible feeling of jealousy burning through me when I see him and Gaara just being together. It's almost like... like this great, big part of me wants Sasuke for myself. But I suppose that _is _what it is, right? I just don't take to sharing him with anyone else.

Right. So that's something that I have to get over, because if I don't let anyone else have Sasuke, how will he be loved? And I believe that love is a very important thing, so who am I to stop Sasuke from getting that? I mean, I do love Sasuke, but just, not the kind of love that is even more important; that love that means every single drop of your life to you; that kind of love that makes you die for that one person in the world. That lover-love that is just oh, so special. I don't think of Sasuke like that... and even if I did, that just wouldn't work. Not at all. It's just not the way things are supposed to be, you know?

Right. So I'm going to have to, I guess, detach myself from Sasuke just that little bit. He still is the closest friend I'll ever have, but maybe I'll back off a little and leave him a bit of room for Gaara. We used to see each other practically every single day, going out to the cinema, to local band gigs, just to hang out, really. But if we continue doing that, then when will there be Sasuke-Gaara time, hm? Wait... how did they spend time with each other before? They must've, right? Well anyhow, I'm pretty sure they'll want to make out a lot more often than they've been able to because of me.

…I must be really selfish, because even though I've decided to do this, I still want more time with Sasuke for myself. I mean, just the other day, hadn't I decided that I would spend _more _time with Sasuke? Because I'm really having trouble with finding myself amongst all these different cliques. Sasuke is someone who will help me through this, but... no. I can't just snatch him up and hog him. Someone like him needs to be shared, because he is fucking special, he is.

Right. So, here's the plan. I won't make any plans with Sasuke, and the next time he asks me to go somewhere, then I'll just make up an excuse. It's enough seeing and talking to him at school; it has to be. If I want Sasuke to be happy, then I'm going to have to sacrifice my time with him.

Oh fucking god, shoot me now. I'm a sappy ass and by George, do I know it.

The bus pulled over at my stop, and I got off, prepared for the short walk to my apartment. It was only a couple streets a way, a turn this way, and a turn that way, and boom! There you are at this massive block of apartments. But as I turned a corner into another road, I spotted this huge gang of seven or so Gees walking towards me in the opposite direction. They walked with large steps, adding a slight dip in that ever so gangsta bop of theirs.

To be honest, I'm quite intimidated by large groups of people like them. And call me a frickin' coward, but I am one of those people who cross the road just so I don't have to cross paths with them on the same slab of pavement.

I'm a wuss; you don't have to tell me twice.

So that's what I did. And as soon as they had turned the corner, out of sight, I crossed back again.

Boy, do they scare the living shit out of me.

But don't tell Sasuke that, please. I'd like to have him think I'm all hard, init yo.

My apartment complex came into view and I stepped inside, deciding to take the elevator up to the ninth floor instead of lugging myself up those flights of stairs. As soon as I got in, after dropping the keys, using the wrong one, cursing, then finding out I had forgotten to lock the fucking door at all, I stripped down butt naked and dropped dead on my bed, ready for sleep.

And sleep came.

- - - - -

_Boompch._

_Boompch, boompch._

_I'm bringing sexy back!_

_Yea-uh!_

Ungh. Honestly, why couldn't they wait until I had woken up?!

I dropped my arm off the edge of the bed and shoved my clothes around the floor, looking for my phone in a sleepy daze. Grabbing it from inside my crumpled hoodie, I turned on my side to check who was calling me.

_Them_ _other boys don't know how to act!_

_Yea-uh!_

But I couldn't even take a look as Justin Timberlake cut off, the caller gave up calling and the ID disappeared from the screen. For fuck's sake! Wake me up and don't even have the patience to wait! I chucked the phone onto the pillow beside me, watching it bounce back softly and lay on its back, face up.

Well, today, I won't see Sasuke. Today is Sasuke-Gaara day. If ever a need arises for me and Sasuke to even see each other, I'll just make up some kind of excu-

_Boompch._

_Boompch, boompch._

_I'm bringing sexy ba-_

"FUCK YOU!"

"Good morning."

It was Sasuke, with his usual boring tone of a voice.

Great timing, Sasuke. Just when I decide to avoid you for the rest of day, you up and call me at ten in the morning.

"I'm coming over," he said, and I could just imagine his dead face.

"What?"

"I'm on my way over to your place," he said it as monotonous as ever

"Whuh, why?" My voice always seemed to go higher the more confused I got. Every expression of puzzlement I made got squeakier and squeakier.

"Surprise meeting."

I was speaking at an abnormally high pitch, my vocal cords constricting to pull it off. "But what about Gaa-" and before I even got the chance to finish the word, the line went and the doorbell rang.

I dropped the phone, scrambled out of the tangle of sheets and stumbled hurriedly towards the door using my hands to push myself quicker along the walls. I swung it open and there in all of his glory stood Sasuke with a slightly hunched back and a straight palm raised in greeting.

"Sasuke?!" My god, I bet only the dogs could hear that. I fucking swear if I get any higher than this my throat will snap from the tension that confusion always put on my voice.

He looked at me with an eyebrow quirked up.

"For having such a girly voice up there, it's rather surprising that you're such a _man _down _here_," he smirked a bit, his eyes cast too low to be looking at my face and he stepped up and gave a little pat to my… my…

My dick.

And just walked right past me into the house.

…Oh god.

Please don't tell me that just happened.

I'll just look down, and I'll see my manhood covered with cotton boxers.

…Oh god.

…Oh, _fucking _god.

I see my manhood, alright… in all its naked glory!

"You gonna stand there all day?" I heard Sasuke's voice from behind me, tinged with a layer of amusement.

I stood still in the doorway of my apartment. I mean, I'm naked. Unexpectedly so. How do you want me to react?!

"Don't you want your present, hm?"

Wha? I turned around to face him, my face contorted with absolute confusion over everything that had happened in less than three minutes.

I thought it wasn't possible for my vocal cords to stretch beyond belief, but they sure proved me wrong.

"Present?!"

Sasuke's amusement leaked through his smile at my high, high voice.

"Happy birthday, dumbfuck," he said with a smile, chucking a package at me he had produced from his shoulder bag.

I wish I was a ninja, but I'm not, so my non-existent ninja reflexes didn't save me from the package that whacked my face before falling to the ground. Sasuke chuckled briefly and I could just hear him mutter "dumbass" under his breath.

… It's my birthday today, and I completely forgot. Even I think that's ridiculously silly… It's probably just everything that's been happening what with a personality crisis, gayness, and Gaara. Then… since today is special… it's okay if I spend it with Sasuke, right? It will be the only exception, so it'll be okay, right?

I leant down to retrieve the present wrapped in fluorescently chequered paper, and on my way up, I was met again with the sight of my magnificently naked manhood.

I'd completely forgotten I was as naked as the day I was born in front of Sasuke. Quickly, I grabbed the present and shoved it over my phallus. I can _feel _the heat in my face.

"Open it then," Sasuke smirked.

"I think I'd rather do that after I'm not exposed to your homosexual eyes, thank you," my voice came out surprisingly calm this time, meaning it was back at normal pitch.

"You know I'm taken," his smirk grew wider but his eyes were softer. From the though of Gaara or from the fear that it was still too soon, I'm not sure.

Oh… yeah. Gaara.

I couldn't think of anything to say, and Sasuke had already seen Little Naruto once, right? What was the harm of him seeing it again? So with a sigh, I lifted up the package and began to unwrap it, feeling slightly more comfortable being nude in Sasuke's presence.

As the fluorescent colours peeled away, a slightly duller, but still bright as hell orange colour showed through. I like orange, oh yes I do. When I finished unwrapping, I held the orange fabric in front of me, letting it unfold.

Fuck, that's pretty damn cool!

It was a pair of vivid orange pants, and it was already obvious that they were drainpipes that would be as tight as fuck on my legs.

Orange drainpipes… who'd a thought?

"You like it, hm?" Sasuke asked.

"I like it muchly. Shpanks, Shashuke," I said with a false kind of lisp.

I beamed up at him my appreciation and hugged him tightly. Fuck being naked. He hugged me around the waist too and I suddenly realised how cold I had been from being bare in the chilly air.

"No problem. But you haven't finished yet."

Eh?

"Look in the pocket, dumbfuck," he said fondly, backing off from me and I was suddenly very cold again.

I brought up the drainpipes and reached inside the back pocket, pulling out the cards that were in there and taking a look.

OH MY FUCK!

"SASUKE, YOU FUCKER! I FUCKING LOVE YOU TO FUCKING _BITS!!!_" And I jumped on him again, knocking him against the wall and squeezing him harder than ever. I guess I have a tendency of swearing when I get too happy. He chucked a bit.

"Yeah, I knew you would. Well, we're leaving at three, so we've got five hours to get ready. Enough time to get all dolled up, you think?" he asked with a smile.

I nodded, a big wide grin still stuck on my face. God, I have to look at them again. Just to make sure.

Yes...

Yeah, baby!

Two tickets to see My Chemical fucking Romance. Tonight. At seven. There's no doubt in my mind this will be the best night of my fucking life. Just me and Sasuke and My Chemical Romance with the crowd of screaming fans and moshers. I am fucking looking forward to it, I am.

Yes, tonight it will be alright to be with Sasuke. Because today is _my _day.

Wait your turn, Gaara.

* * *

Ung… I don't particularly think the beginning was very good. But I'll work on my skills, I promise!

My Chemical Romance are fucking _amazing._


	4. It's surreal

Uh… You've not noticed that updates are getting slower and slower… right?

Shpanks to all you lovely reviewers! It's nice to see so many of you love My Chem also. It's a shame no one's heard of Enter Shikari from the chapter before; check 'em out, init yo.

For those of you who haven't heard of My Chemical Romance (I believe Crick is someone who hasn't), then you must. Because they are better than amazing.

This chapter has absolutely zilch plot progress… apologies, heh. It's not even got a lot of fluff, and I'm not particularly certain about posting it, but I shall. If only to keep you entertained whilst I think something up for later.

Let'sh goh!

* * *

It was hot. 

The air thickened with anxious excitement as each second ticked by.

Every part of my body was touching another part of someone else's, every drop I sweated was soaked up by someone else's clothes.

It was _fucking_** hot.**

Sasuke was stood behind me. I couldn't see him. I could _feel _him. His chest spooned tight into the arch of my back, the body heat he emanated seeping through my shirt, through my skin. Heck, _everyone's _body heat seemed to concentrate on every single cell of my body. Some people were already too thrilled to keep still, shifting and jumping and causing the heat of friction between everyone they touched.

Here and there, luminous glow-sticks were scattered, clutched in the hands of eager fans, or hung from a string around their necks. Some had already been discarded on the floor, cracked and broken, fluorescent alkali oozing from the plastic frame, and then dying out into the dark.

I picked one of the busted sticks from the floor, having trouble squeezing down between two squirming bodies, then squeezing back up again.

With a grin, I turned to face Sasuke, not easily, mind you, and squeezed the bright pink liquid onto his black shirt, trying to spell something out with a hand quivering from the anticipation of waiting for My Chem to finally appear, and from the mass of moving bodies around me.

Sasuke looked down at me, then down even more at his shirt, watching my unstable hand spell out:

'I'M A GAYBOY.'

Complete with a winking smiley face.

Unfortunately, each letter only had enough time to shine for a few seconds before its luminosity wore off and it darkened into the black of Sasuke's shirt again. But it was enough for both him and me to understand.

He looked at me, an almost cynical look that was ever-present on his face and his eyebrow quirked up. I grinned back and gave him a quick thumb's up before returning to writing more on his shirt.

'TAKE ME TO THE GAYBAR!'

God, I crack myself up. But before Sasuke had time to comment this time, the huge mass of already sweat-slicked bodies around us began screaming, and screaming, and jumping, and jumping and altogether just creating more and more heat and heat. It was almost unbearably uncomfortable, but I put up with it with a huge smile and excited blood rushing through my veins. Because I could feel the anticipation from everyone's aura dissipate, I could feel the thrum of my heart as an almost unworldly presence settled in the room.

And I could hear the first lines of _The End _ringing through everyone's bodies, to my body, to Sasuke's body behind me.

My Chemical Romance had arrived.

"**Now come one, come all to this tragic affair**

**Wipe off that make-up what's in is despair**

**So throw on the black dress, mix in with the lot**

**You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not."**

Gerard Way's unique voice sung out through the big hall, making people crazy with the overwhelming sensation of being in the presence of such amazing guys.

This was it. These were the people whose music I loved. And there they were, ten fucking feet away from me.

I know this sounds as gay as fuck, but…god…we're breathing the same air!!

I couldn't concentrate much with all these bodies shoving up against me, fighting their way to the front to get as close as possible, some succeeding, others only generating more hot heat.

It was amazingly, brilliantly, fucking overwhelming.

But more than I could feel the incredible sound of guitars, drums and vox vibrations; I could feel Sasuke, his chest rubbing up and down my spine, his arms a sweaty mess alongside mine in the air, his hips… fuck, his hips! I could feel them digging into my waist, grinding along the low rise of my brand spanking new orange drainpipes.

Everything seemed to give off heat around me, but Sasuke… Sasuke was like a live, burning fire, scorching the whole of my back.

I turned to look at him. His thickly eyeliner'd eyes were shut gently, their long, lush, dark eyelashes just barely ghosting against the pale skin stretched taut over his high cheekbones. His lips were moving, following the words that he knew off by heart, but the only sound that seemed to come out were pants from the movement and the heat. He was practically drowning in sweat – half of it probably not his own – but he still maintained that clean, precise look, even when strands of his hair flicked away from their place from the excess of moisture.

He was, in one way to put it; ethereal.

… Fuck, what am I doing? Here I am at an incredible band's sold out gig on my birthday, and all I can manage to do is give my best friend a good once(or twice)-over.

Sasuke opened his eyes and looked right at me. Oh god… he sure knows what I've been looking at.

"Having fun, dumbfuck?" he asked with an almost-smirk playing on his lips.

Quick! Just forget it never happened, Naruto!

"You bet," and I shot him a mile-wide grin before turning back towards the band.

Oh, yes, my quick thinking is great, don't 'cha think?

The moshing was starting to kick off now with the upbeat riff of _Dead! _starting off, people were getting shoved around and into and onto me. Some had already given up in the excessive heat and either pushed their way to the back, or were crowdsurfed rather painfully to the front where two employees stood at the ready, armed with a hundred water bottles and a first aid kit. Either way, their spaces were quickly filled up, people swarming to fill up the gaps and get as close as possible like particles of liquid.

It was when I was shoved up against the front bar with Sasuke's arms grabbing a hold of it either side of me, that everything just seemed too surreal. I wanted to concentrate on the music and the band, I really did. But when it was as hot as hell, with everyone pushing and shoving and tossing you around, the heat started to get a bit too much. And the presence of Sasuke behind me didn't help much. I could feel the immense amounts of sweat raining off of me by the gallon, and nothing I touched seemed able to relieve me from the overheating sensation that was slowly creeping up my body. In a vain attempt to cool off, I stuck my arm up and out into the air where a very slight breeze seemed to blow in from the air conditioning high up, but just doing that seemed to drain so much out of me. Still, somehow, I managed to keep on singing along, feeling the music through my heart even though I had barely any clue of what I was saying.

I was pushed against the railing again; hard.

Suddenly, it seemed like I was just watching a performance, not being performed to. I saw Gerard singing to the people around me, but not to me. It was almost like I was watching a video on YouTube of a live concert.

And that video eventually turned into what looked like a crappy, illegal camera-phone recording from someone who was a hundred feet back, the frames pixelating and blurring.

And then all energy left me.

I lost the strength to move much. My body seemed to want to shut down. So I stopped moving. Standing still against the energetic crowd around me.

I leant back into Sasuke. Maybe if I just stay unmoving for a few minutes, my energy will come back to me.

"Naruto?"

I could hear him behind me. He held my wrist, expressing some sort of concern. I tried to look up, but my eyeballs just lolled, almost rolling right back into my head. I had to fight to regain control of them. He held my hand, giving some sort of comfort. I tried to get up, to get moving again. My eyes rolled a second time. And this time, I couldn't bring them forwards again. He squeezed my fingers. And I couldn't squeeze back. Because everything was suddenly very, very black.

And the music died.

- - - - -

"**GO!"**

Ungh. It's so loud, but I definitely hear _This Is How I Disappear _blasting around me.

Oh fuck! I'm at the gig, aren't I? What happened? Don't tell me I fainted…

Fuck, I must've. The last thing I remember is being extremely hot in the mass of bodies, and I mean, what else could've caused me to just forget a whole chunk of my life?

Unless I've been date drugged.

…

Naaah.

I opened my eyes, and this time I groaned out loud. There was a dull pounding at the back of my head.

"Dumbfuck."

I looked up, and there was sweaty, ethereal Sasuke kneeling over me, alongside another man in a fluorescent jacket.

"You okay?" The brightly clad man spoke loudly over the music, a slight twang of Geordie in his voice. I saw the words 'CARLING BRIXTON ACADEMY' embroidered on the left breast of his coat. An employee.

"Yeah. Just feeling a bit rough," I answered him, and smiled, pushing myself up with my arms.

"'Ere. 'Ave some water to cool you down." He handed me one of the many water bottles from a crate.

I nodded, "Thanks," and took a swig. The ice cold water was refreshingly soothing sliding down my throat. "How long have I been dead?"

"Just a couple minutes," he smiled. "Take it easy. It's effin' 'ot back there," he warned, and pointed to the still moving crowd behind us.

"Sure will." And I made a start to head back into the chaos of bodies.

But someone pulled me back.

Guess who.

"Nuh uh uh, dumbfuck. We're not going back in there."

I turned to face him with almost pleading eyes. We were already missing out on some of the concert! And even though we were closer to the band now than ever before, I wanted to be part of the crowd, to feel like I belonged in the multitude of MCR fans.

"But Sasuke!"

"We're not risking your newbie ass again in that hot mess. That wasn't even proper full-out moshing, you do realise? Just little shoves here and there. And you couldn't even take that. Dumbfuck."

I wanted to pout. So I did. But I was kinda touched that Sasuke was showing concern for me.

Sasuke grabbed my hand and dragged me to the back of the room to the drink-bars where they left out free, cold water for dehydrated fans. The further back we got, the less people there were and the higher we got, meaning the cooler it was. It was back here where the older, more 'sophisticated' people watched from (i.e. the parents who had to play unwilling chauffeur for their kids), along with dried-out fans and people who came too late to get a good place. There still was a good view, and the music was still loud enough to leave my ears ringing, but now it felt even more like I was only just watching over a performance.

It made me feel almost disappointed, but I know I shouldn't have been. It felt like I was supposed to feel much more excited than I was. I was probably just having trouble catching up with the fact that I was in the same fucking room as My Chemical fucking Romance… yeah… that's why.

"_Sometimes I get the feeling, she's watching over me."_

Sasuke was singing, loud into my ear, bringing me from my thoughts to the present concert. I grinned and sang too, because I love My Chemical Romance as one of my favourite bands, and I love Sasuke as my… **best friend.**

The next forty minutes of the night was spent belting out with all my heart with Sasuke and with My Chemical Romance.

And, god, it was fucking FUN.

I guess coming to this wasn't just to watch a great band play; it was to spend time with Sasuke as well. I must've forgotten that somewhere in the five hour wait in line to get in to the gig venue.

Sasuke had done all this for my birthday, and I should be more than thankful. And I was! Just…

I turned to him, and jump-hugged him from behind, placing my chin into the crook of his neck.

He turned his head slightly to face me. "What?"

"…Thanks, Sasuke. Just… fucking thanks for doing this, y'know? And I'm sorry for making us get a small view from way back here."

The lights faded on as the show ended, and people began filing their way out the double doors, chatting about how great it had been for them and their friends. My ears were ringing from the large amount of sound abuse, but it had all been fucking worth it.

"Dumbfuck," was what he said, but he sent me a smile. And all over again, I realised his… for lack of a less-pansy word; beauty.

Tonight, was fucking **brilliant.**

God, Sasuke's the best fucking friend I could ever ask for.

* * *

Right. I can't say I didn't rush to get this out. Sorry! It's probably a load of crap and pure cheese that spun from my mind. 

But after going to that gig on Sunday… god. I just needed to write about it. No, I didn't faint. I retreated to the bar before I could do that.

But they were INCREDIBLÉ!

Did anyone else go? London, anyone?


	5. It's perfect

Oh GOD. Here we go. It's late and I'm tired. Apologies for the late update, but please, enjoy.

Thanks for all your support, fags!

On with the show.

* * *

It was late; around eleven or so. The train rocked gently every few seconds and even though my body was being lulled into dead exhaustion, I was wide awake. Sasuke sat beside me with his head leant back on the seat, his eyes analysing the patterned ceiling.

God, the blood and the excitement from the loud music and the die-hard fans and the pushing and the shoving were still thrumming in my veins, rushing up and down and around like a drug, lingering in my body for just that while longer.

Halfway home and there were still remains of people wearing My Chemical Romance t-shirts on the trains, fresh from the concert. It was weird knowing exactly where these strangers had been, and knowing they knew where _you_ had been for the last few hours. And it was all from the way we were dressed.

It's strange y'know? For the whole of today, not one single Gee or the alternative Asian Gee had crossed my path. Usually I can't get by one day without seeing at least ten of them. But I guess that should've been expected, right? I mean, the 'stereotypical gangsta' isn't supposed to like bands like this.

But who am I to judge them?

Who says gangstas can't like MCR?

I suppose it's part of what defines them. Something that people recognise them as gangstas for.

But then there are those who break the mould; those who dress like one thing and listen to another. And I guess those are the people who just do what they want, caring about what people say as much as they care about what people think; that is, not caring at all.

I should be like that.

Everyone should be like that.

I guess it's just the fear of judgement that stops us.

"Where did you go?" Sasuke spoke in monotone, breaking me from my thoughts, his eyes still trained upon the ceiling as the train stopped and the majority of people left from the sliding doors.

"What? I've been here-"

"Saturday. You left," he said, and I could detect the slightest ounces of betrayal, accusation and concern hidden under his almost expressionless tone.

"Saturday, huh?" It was the day I met Gaara, which was the day after Sasuke had coaxed open my, err, _attraction­ _to men.

"Saturday." He turned to look at me, waiting for an answer.

"I guess I just thought, y'know, you and Gaara would've liked some alone time," I shrugged and looked at the map to check how many stops were left. It was mostly because I don't want to remember Sasuke and Gaara practically eating each other. It's uncomfortable to picture my best friend all hot and bothered with another guy. It's like picturing your, I dunno, brother doing the same thing.

…

Heh.

Who am I trying to kid?

I…

I guess…

I guess I'm _attracted _to Sasuke. Just the eensiest little bit.

I mean, he is the _nicest _guy, really. And I know he cares about me.

And let's face it.

He's a **Gay Sex God.**

Don't try to disagree with me. You can't.

I guess it makes sense that the first guy I would like would be my best friend. But it's so incredibly wrong, isn't it?

Though, I would love for it to happen. Just to see how things would turn out. But I know that when it ends, I most likely would lose the person who meant the most to me. Things would be so very awkward it would hurt.

And even so, there's still Gaara. The boyfriend.

God. The boyfriend.

I know it's not his fault, but I can't help but be a little… _peeved _with him.

It just annoys me that there is absolutely zero chance of there ever being an 'us'. Me and Sasuke. Sasuke and me.

But it's only an itty bitty crush. Itty bitty, I swear. I'm thinking too far ahead.

Just, I hope it goes away soon.

"You know, if I didn't want you there, I wouldn't have asked you to come."

I kept my eyes on the tube map. (1)

"Yeah well, maybe I just don't enjoy sitting next to two guys sexing each other up as much as you'd like me to." I say, quietly because I don't want to sound offending.

"Well I'm sorry for not pleasing your every whim."

I guess that didn't work.

"What do you mean?" I asked. Why's he being so uptight?

He sighed, a sign of irritation. Well somebody's in a bitchy mood.

"Why can't you just be grateful for what I'm doing for you?"

"I am! Sasuke, why are you-"

"Everyone wants so much from me, I expected at least you to appreciate me!"

"And I do! I appreciate you so much!"

I wanted to say more.

"Then show it!"

Do I not already? Am I really that ungrateful that Sasuke is mad at me? Sasuke hasn't been mad at me in ages. He's usually the calm, slightly strange one out of the two of us. Why is he so riled up? And so quickly too. I barely said anything... didn't I?

"I-" I didn't finish because Sasuke got up out of his seat and headed for the doors.

God I can't even get a word in.

He looked at me through the thin sheet of glass between the doors and the seats before uttering, "Selfish bastard."

And he left.

… You know, I can barely remember the last time me and Sasuke had an actual argument. It just happened all too fast, too quick for me to even properly register what was happening. And it was right after what I thought would've been the best experience of my life. Perfect ending that was.

The few people left on the train were trying not to stare. Some were curious, others disapproved of our behaviour.

I looked at them all as the train came to a halt at my station.

I murmur a soft, "Sorry." And I too left from the sliding doors that Sasuke had just gone through, taking slow steps in the biting autumn wind.

I guess I have been kind of… selfish. I mean, I established that before. I've been trying to spend too much time with Sasuke recently, and he's not getting enough time with Gaara because of it. I suppose that's probably why he was a bit moody. Not getting enough time for some lovin' with his boyfriend, heh. But what can I do? I've already decided to give up some time with him, but I didn't get a chance to start that because of his surprise visit today. You can't blame me, can you?

It's times like these that that little crush gets in the way. Even if I didn't like him like that, it would've been hard to spend less time with him, but I do, y'know, _fancy _him just a little bit, mind you so it's all I can do to share him with Gaara.

I guess I'll just have to make it up to him. Show him I'm _proper _thankful, init. Heh. Even at times like these, I joke in my thoughts. God, I'm so immature.

I walked a couple streets ahead, praying there were no dodgy people waiting for me around the corner, walking each slow step thoughtfully, placing my foot on every crack in the road and watching how my feet twisted inwards in a pigeon-toed gait. It's my method of keeping bad thoughts at bay, to concentrate on little details like this, because I'm not sure I want to think about Sasuke right now. I'm pretty sure that if I do, I'll end up feeling like a frustrated piece of shit.

Four cracks in the road.

I stuffed my hands in my pockets where there lay my phone and the soggy, ruined, sweat-soaked remains of my ticket. It's what; a quarter past midnight now? The cold is making me sprout goosebumps on every inch of my skin and every breeze that blows by makes me spazz a little. It's cold, but I'm looking forward to the immensely satisfying sensation of walking into my heated apartment after being out in the chilly-winded night. I can see the high tower of apartments peeping around the corner, so it won't be a long wait now.

Sixty-eight cracks now.

Seventy-three.

Seventy-nine.

Eighty-two.

I stepped into the block of apartments and went into the lift. I only remember using the stairs three times, and even then, that was going downstairs. Shut up. I'm a slob, and I know it.

After fumbling with the keys a little, I pushed the door open. Now this is the bit I suffer the cold for, and I plan to enjoy it. It's one of those things that you just can't live without, y'know? That wash-over of glorious heat on your numbing body. It's _lovely._

And I took the first step in.

…

Fucking. Hell.

There is no hot rush of heat to greet me.

All that anticipation and my heater's on the fritz during the coldest damn autumn night since the friggin' existence of autumn nights.

The growl I let out echoed slightly in my small living room.

But I just cannot be arsed enough to do anything but stomp my way to the shower, still numbing from cold.

I stink like a farm of onions.

The sweat that had accumulated from myself and twenty other people had mostly evaporated on the journey home, leaving behind a strong stench of a concoction of twenty-one different types of deadly BO. I've never needed a shower so bad.

At least the hot water's working. My fingers and toes sting from the sudden change in temperature, but god, this feels _nice._ The pelts of water melt away at my muscles, leaving me to lean against the wall like a steaming pile of mush.

As soon as the water flow stopped and the steam halted rising, the cold air around me began to seep into my skin, chilling me to the bone. No sleeping naked tonight. I shoved on a great big, soft hoodie and a pair of joggers before diving into my bed and burying myself under the duvet. It's one in the morning and I'm dead tired. My legs curl up to my chest and I hug them there, breathing face down into my pillow.

I sleep like a foetus. So shank me. (2)

For a few moments, I watch the light flash on my charging phone beside my pillow. The monotonous, paced on and off of the little spot of green light was sending me rhythmically into slow sleep.

I feel like a character in The Sims, way into the red on energy.

Yeah… I love… that… game…

_Boompch._

_Boompch, boompch._

_I'm bringing sexy back!_

Oh, for fuck's sake! Who the fuck would call at this time of night? I make a grab the phone awkwardly, my hands covered up with cotton sleeves that were too long for me. I have half a mind to hurl it into the wall, but I get a hold of it first and checked what bastard would do this to me and my sleep.

… _Sasuke?_ … Is he still mad? Why's he calling?

"Err… Hi," I say, as I roll onto my back and my legs unfold to reach the end of the bed. My toes wiggle a bit and play with the edge of the duvet.

"…Hi," Sasuke's deep voice transmits over the phone, but it's covered with hesitation instead of the usual boring tone.

It's silent. Well if you're gonna call me, you might as well speak!

I'm not even sure whether to be sorry or angry with him now.

…I'll go with sorry, heh. But how do I apologise?

"So, err… Sasuke…" Man, this hoodie is so damn comfy! I brought up the sleeve to rub against my cheek and revel in the softness of the fabric. "Y'know… this hoodie I'm wearing is so damn comf-"

"I'm sorry."

Did… Did Sasuke just apologise? That's not something I hear everyday. He's talking about earlier, right? But wasn't that my fault?

He sounded so sincere, it was sweet. Heh. I smile into my phone and into my hoodie despite my confusion. All that matters is that he's still talking to me.

"So, you're not… mad at me?" If the phone had a cord, I would've been twiddling it.

"No. I'm sorry I ever was," he spoke softly and added a short, nervous chuckle at the end and I could imagine his shoulders bounce.

My smile grew wider. It's nice to know he's still, y'know, cool with me.

And man, he's just being too sweet tonight! It's just not natural, but I'm lovin' it.

... He'd make a great boyfriend.

"It's just that…" he paused. "Gaara's been a bit demanding lately."

Oh.

"I just took it all out on you."

Y'know what's bad? I don't know whether to feel bad for Sasuke's suffering, or happy that Gaara's causing him problems.

"Forgive me?" there was silence for a while. "Yer, bruv?"

The giggle escaped my throat before I could stop it.

God, I love Sasuke as much as I could love a friend, yeah.

"Yer, man," I spoke back, but my impression could never be as good as Sasuke's. He's just… King of that.

"Good." His normal dead tone was back, but I don't mind. "So, Naruto, tell me. Are you in bed?"

"Why, yes. Yes I am," my eyebrows waggled, even though he couldn't see them.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"What are you wearing, hm?"

I grinned. Trust Sasuke to turn a sincere apology into phone sex foreplay.

"Oh, y'know. Just this hoodie."

"_Just _that hoodie, eh?" God, I wonder how he manages to keep his voice so monotonous when he talks like this. It really is a strange thing to hear.

"Well, what do _you _think, hm?" I tried to sound in any way seductive. It was just a game right? I can imagine.

"Oh, I think about _lots _of things," his voice slightly more suggestive now. "Naruto," he said with his voice so very deep and so very sensual it made me shiver ever so slightly.

Maybe this should stop soon. I mean, what if Gaara's tapped our phones or something? You never know!

But I don't want to stop this. It's rather fun talking undercover dirty with Sasuke. Suggestive, but not full-blown X-rated lingo. No doubt Sasuke'll change that pretty soon.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, really."

"Like what?"

I heard him yawn quietly on the other side of the line and it made me yawn too. "…Like… I d'no," he's probably getting tired. His words slightly slurred. "You... and handcuffs, and whips… all that kinky cock… and bull… yum."

I laughed. I couldn't help it. I laughed.

It was just like Sasuke to say that. That strange little boy.

And when I stopped laughing and listened to the phone again, all I could hear was deep, even breathing. I guess he'd fallen asleep in the middle of our foreplay.

I'm insulted!

But I can't help but smile, again and again, before I say "Love you," hang up, roll up into my foetal position once more and… sleep.

Perfect day, today was. Bloody perfect day.

* * *

(1) I'm not sure if you call it that in other countries, but here, it's just the map of the underground train.

(2) Shank's becoming a popular term over here. It mean's basically to hit or cause pain or whatev.


	6. It's realisation

Alright. I know updates are lagging in speed. Apologies.

But life's not been so great.

It's Christmas soon, so there's something to look forward to. If I get the chance to, I might churn out a Christmas fiction for you guys, yer?

**Thank you all so incredibly much for all your loving reviews, especially those who put a little extra effort in. You have no idea how much it means to me. I love knowing that my writing effects you guys in some ways.**

It makes me feel big :)

**And guys, guys! Naruto saying "Love you" on the phone was not as in "I love you, now let's have sex." It's "I love you. I can tell you anything. You're my best friend." Get it? I say I love my friends all the time. Maybe it's not something normal to do, I don't know. But that's just how close these guys are, yo!**

So yeah. Back to school for Sasuke and Naruto. The next few chapters might only be slightly eventful to show the close relationship between them, because it feels like you guys don't know much about it.

And one last thing. I _do_ realise my writing keeps changing, and I _am _trying to remain consistent, but it is really hard when things keep changing in my real life. Forgive me, yer? I'm trying my best. It still feels like that first chapter was a level above the rest. I'll try to get my humour back. Promise.

Enjoy.

- - - - -

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Yes, Mr. Hatake."

Form Time **Room 2 **8:40a.m

_Registration._

"Uzumaki Naruto?"

"Mmmfg Unnhf-ke."

I am dead.

Or at least, it feels like I am.

Every inch I move makes my overworked muscles cry out with the pain of having to stretch. There's this _one particular spot, _right next to my left shoulder which aches like **hell**, like each individual strand of muscle has been torn right the way through, leaving the remains to stab at my nerves and send messages of intense pain straight to my brain.

Really, right now, I'm just a pile of dead limbs crumbling at my desk.

The only place that doesn't hurt is my… dick. Which isn't surprising, really. I mean, it's not like there's a reason for her to, and besides. She's not been getting any action lately.

Yes. _She._

My penis is female.

…

Long story. Ask Sasuke.

But, man. No nookie at all. Not even any meetings with my own right hand. Not since my first initiation into manhood at least, when it happened for every other day for three weeks straight. But now? Nada.

Not that I've done the actual, y'know. And you _know _I'm not the only one.

Come on.

All the virgins in da house, put yo' hands up!

Yeah, I thought so.

But when you're a seventeen year old boy, the hormones get _fucking excited_, I tell you. I'm surprised they've slept so long for these past couple years, but boy, all that energy that they've stored up has finally unleashed. Practically everything I think about leads me, in one way or another, back to that subject of, well… sex.

I mean just look at me now. Physically, I'm barely able to move. Pain registers in my brain every few moments. I get cramps in every possible muscle. I'm in _agony._

And here I am. Thinking about sex.

God, I need to get **laid.**

I'm looking at Sasuke now. Because that's just how my brain has come to work these past days. It's not healthy, I swear, and it sure as hell isn't right.

Think of fucking; think of Sasuke.

Think of Sasuke; think of fucking.

You have no idea how embarrassingly, frustratingly, guilty this feels. Just… It makes me want to roar.

I mean, I've come to terms with the fact now that, yes, I _do _like Sasuke. But I also know that there's no way we'll ever be what I want us to be. Firstly, because he's already got Gaara, and secondly because I don't ever want to risk what we have already.

I've said it before, I'll say it again.

Sasuke is my best _fucking _friend.

If I lose that, I don't know what I'll do.

Heh.

Trust my heart to mess it all up.

"Okay!" Mr. Hatake clapped his hands together, catching everyone's attention whilst he sat on his desk, his legs crossed at the ankles and swinging back and forth. It made his black slacks hitch up an inch or so, letting his black and pink argyle patterned socks peek out from beneath them. "Since there's no assembly today, how about we have a discussion, hm?" He aimed a smile at all of us, making his eyes crease to squints and his mouth stretch across that well-structured jaw line.

The class gave no response.

The Gees up in the back corner, sat with legs spread wide, were too unwilling to contribute for fear it would shatter their reputation of being uncooperative rebels. The Nerdwhores near the front sat twirling a curl of hair, legs crossed and chewing some gum. One of them sat diagonally from me, and I could see from under her desk that her tartan skirt reached about five inches down her thigh, her red knee-high sock covered legs were crossed, right over left, and the one on top was swinging languidly. They're just a British variation of the Plastics, really.

On the left side of the room, there sat a compilation of punks, skaters and goths. Don't get the wrong idea. I know that if they were given the chance, they'd sit a mile away from each other, but when all the other options are gangstas, the Straight Edge'd (1) and Japanese freaks… I guess they'd rather sit closer to people who are less likely to actively discriminate them.

That's probably why people, who aren't one of them (not that I am), think that they're all exactly the same. Generally speaking, that is. But really, they hate each other to bits.

How do I know this? Simple. A little bit of careful observation, and a lot of MySpace, my friends. MySpace.

That website is the spawn of stereotypes and judgement, and yet, it is so _sinfully _addictive.

I kinda feel sorry for Mr. Hatake. I mean, he is a real good teacher and all, but half of his class just doesn't give a shit about the effort he makes.

I mean, there _are_ some people who participate. I'm just making it sound unreasonably extreme. Not everyone here is bent into one 'species' of person and not everyone is unresponsive to Mr. Hatake's charm. There are those who are just… normal. But I guess today, everyone was feeling too tired to join in.

Me, I don't know what I am. I don't think I want people judging me.

But here I am, doing that to other people.

God, I'm a bad man.

"Well you're all so enthusiastic today," Mr Hatake said, with his smile still on, but his eyes opened, revealing his strangely mismatched eyes.

The room was silent still, aside from the occasional loud chew of gum, or the thrumming of fingers on a desk, or, sometimes, the dreamy sighs of some of Mr. Hatake's admirers in the front row. I mean, he _is _a handsome man, isn't he?

When no one made a further response, he jumped swiftly up onto the desk with his brown knitted scarf floating out behind him, and flung his arms out into the air yelling, "Wake up and _smell the hormones!_"

I chuckled, and it made my throat ache. Yeah, he's one of my favourite teachers, for sure. Slightly strange, but so great.

Some of the class laughed with me, some groaned at the prospect of having to discuss some political issue or another.

Sasuke chuckled too.

…Fuck him for being so _pretty._

Oh god. You know what's coming? I'll be thinking about sex _riiiight_… **_now._**

Smell the hormones, indeed.

"Good." Mr. Hatake still stood atop the desk, his hands now lowered into the pockets of his slacks and his spine bent slightly back in a lazy posture. "Let's discuss porn."

- - - - -

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

"Yes, Ms. Moore."

Religious Studies **Room 14 **11:40a.m

"Uzumaki Naruto?"

"Yeah." My throat still burned a bit, but it felt better than this morning.

Religious Studies was never my favourite class, but it was a compulsory subject in our school. I'm not a religious person. I don't see the point of it all, really. I mean, I'm all for you believing in whatever you wanted to.

Just don't force your beliefs on _me._

"Right class," a wide woman with a sticky voice spoke at the front of the room. "Today, we're going to watch a video of the Jewish ceremony of…" she paused to write huge letters on the whiteboard.

Oh god, no.

"Circumcision."

The former noise of classroom bustle died abruptly, everyone silenced in awe, disgust, or confusion at the one word Ms. Moore uttered.

I felt the need to speak.

"…Ew."

But that was the only raspy whisper that would come out.

"It is a completely normal and hygienic process, I assure you," Ms. Moore spoke, but no one made an effort to show they had heard.

She stepped to the side and flicked the switch to turn the projector on whilst she started up the video.

I rub my hands over my face and sighed into them, pushing my chair back and leaning on the desk heavily. Why is it that… penises keep popping up recently?

Wait… I said that out loud, didn't I?

"Did you just say, 'penises popping up'?" Sasuke's voice echoed in my ear, accentuating each 'P' with a smack of his lips.

I turned to look at him from behind my hands. His face was oh, so close to mine.

"…Noooo." It was obviously a lie. It sounded like that on purpose, might I add. I even made my eyes move shiftily, and rose up to sit up straight, backing into my chair and covering my mouth partially with my fingers. Obviously, it's a ploy for me to be funny enough to distract him from the subject. Duh.

Sasuke giggled, a funny little laugh. Forget about my penis, please!

"So…" he shuffled a little closer from his seat. "Penises," I'm starting to get sick of that word. "Like… _this one._"

…Oh my.

"Don't come _popping up _recently?"

… Has Sasuke just touched… and is _still _touching my… **special place **for the second time in less than two days?

…Wha…Ho...Whe…

Oh, god. Stop touching it, Sasuke…

I had to fight, and fight hard, to retain the sudden rush of blood from surging to my face… and to… other places.

God.

This is… so wrong.

"Sasuke, stop it," I said as I pushed his hand away. "Fucker." It was affectionate, I swear!

He moved his hand back to where it belonged (_not _anywhere on me, mind you) and said, "Sorry." He offered a smile. "Maybe I should get circumcised for ever trying to seduce you?"

From that, I knew he knew he'd stepped over the line. Again.

But that's okay.

"Yeah, I'd like that." I grinned and his shoulders bounced once in a silent chuckle.

And then the video started.

And, god, it was _painful _to watch.

Just… to do that to an eight day old baby! Think of the pain!

Boy, I sure am glad my parents weren't Jewish.

- - - - -

It was here, I remember, where I became bi.

We sat under the tree that we always sit by again. And again, we were surrounded by so many different people eating their lunch, listening to music, or sneaking in a quick fag. And again, I look at Sasuke, and I look at everyone, and I wonder how he does it.

How can he not care about all these people judging every little step you take?

I leant my aching muscles tiredly against the thick trunk of the tree with Sasuke besides me, sitting up straighter than I was.

"Sasuke," I spoke, with my face still looking ahead at the separated crowds of people around the fields of autumn flowers whilst I picked at the grass lying beneath my fingers.

"Hm?"

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"How do you, y'know, be so… carefree to what people think about you. You just… don't seem to give a shit at all."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No… no, it's great." I looked up at him. "I love you for it; don't _ever _change." I smiled a small smile at him, and he smiled a small smile back. "Just…" I spoke quietly, smile dropping, "I wish I could be like you." And I returned to pulling the grass out of the ground and staring at the different cliques of people around us. "How do you do it?"

"Well. That's simple." He still smiled down at me when I looked up at him. "I don't care about what anyone else thinks because your thoughts are the only ones that matter."

What he said, as corny as it sounds, made me feel all nice and warm and fuzzy in my stomach.

I smiled. Proper big. I mean… Sasuke's being too sweet. He's strange really; perverted, but sweet at heart.

"You big cheese." I grinned up at him.

But he did make very good sense.

Why should I care about everyone else, when I've got Sasuke? Sasuke who loves me for who I am because he _knows _who I am. Not just hating or liking me for the way I dress or the music I listen to.

"Sasuke, I love you. (2)" And I sat up, spreading my arms wide.

"Love you too."

"… Oi, I'm waiting for a hug, y'know."

He sighed, and I spotted a slight roll of his eyes, before he dived onto me, pushing us to the ground with his arms wrapped around my waist, and mine around his neck. Our legs crossed over each others, his tight jeans, in between my tight jeans, and god, I'm happy and feeling _good._

Cheesy? Yeah, I know it is, but shut up; I'm in a _great _mood.

It was here, I remember, where I became bi.

And it was here, that my friendship with Sasuke kept growing; that in turn, my feelings for him grew too.

"Oh wait, shit. I was supposed to meet Gaara for lunch today."

But it was here, too, that I realised, again: Sasuke was already taken.

And I wasn't so happy anymore.

- - - - -

Rush? Indeed, I did. Sorry. Please comment if you feel the flow of the story is too quick or anything. Constructive criticism will be welcomed very, very, muchly.

(1) Straight Edge is becoming yet another preset, prejudicial stereotype. Heard of it? Don't judge them, or anyone else for that matter. I hope this story is getting to that point.

(2) If ANYONE complains about things moving to fast, I will SCREAM with the frustration of knowing you didn't read the **bold **author note at the beginning.


	7. It's a tattoo

So. It's been a while, hasn't it?

Heh. Apologies.

I guess having the Christmas holidays just gave me less time to write instead of more.

But… fuck, my fellow men. What a response that last chapter got! I mean… just wow. A lot of your reviews really helped me with what you said and commented on, and I hope you got my replies.

Thank you, bloody _lots_, for putting in the effort. :DDD

And, for this reason, and for many others, I would like to dedicate this chapter to **you guys **for being so great.

Especially, all the readers who missed me off AFF (did you get my reply on there?), and especially **Kimra, AiKyouGokai, Rasengan22, adochan, sasukesfang, yks and greenbottle. **Thank you, lots and lots :DDDD

Now, I think it is about time this chapter got going, so here it is.

Enjoy it, yer bruvs?

- - - - -

The weeks fly by pretty fast, don't they?

It's been, what, like a month since I first met Gaara?

Him and Sasuke are still together; no surprise there.

I'd bunked out on the movie night with Sasuke after then. I'd promised myself I'd give him more time with Gaara, hadn't I? But the week after that, it was hard to refuse, and Sasuke was getting suspicious so you can't blame me for slipping up that time, right?

Yeah, well, the week after… I went… again.

Because you know what?

_I still fancy the pants off of him._

Don't tell me I'm an idiot – I already know I am. But is it really my fault that he's being so funny and so nice and so sweet and _so fucking **pretty?**_

God, have I ever told you how perfectly delicious his ass is?

…

Never mind. My frustrated libido is kicking in. Don't listen to anything it says. I'll kill it soon, promise.

So it's Friday now and we're in the last class of the week, me and Sasuke and Art with Mr. Hatake. With my best friend, my favourite subject and my favourite teacher, it's my favourite time of the day.

At the moment, we're doing observational paintings, yada yada. Boring shit, I tell you. Mr. Hatake told us to think of it as a metaphor of life; there are things that you just won't like doing, but if you do, you will never, _ever_ regret it. He's a strange one, that Kakashi. At times, he's so damn deep you can't reach his bottom, like when he's so… philosophical like this (it's a shame Neji doesn't take Art). But other times... man, other times…

He's so perverted it's actually **cool.**

"Right," he clapped his hands twice, immediately achieving twenty pairs of eyes on his body leaning lazily on the dirty paint-stained desk behind him. "We've got fifteen minutes till the bell goes, so let's pack this crap up, shall we?"

"Yer, man!" I yawned and stretched my arms out, hearing my shoulders give a satisfying pop from being still for so long.

Hey… Did I just say 'yer'?

Come to think of it, I've been using 'init, yo', and 'blad' quite a lot lately.

God, it's frightening to think of all the ways Sasuke's influenced me. Talking gangsta lingo is becoming rather a habit for me, isn't it? An annoying one at that. But I just can't seem to stop, really! It's unexpectedly addictive. Try it one day; you'll be as hooked as I am. Go on, I dare you.

"Tidy up, tidy up, tidy up," Mr. Hatake, eyes creased into happy squints, sang as he patrolled around the classroom and passed right by me, his stripy scarf trailing along in the air after him.

I gave him a two-fingered salute, to which he paused in his patrolling to grace me with a rewarding pat on the head, before I gathered my supplies and placed them in their proper, respective places. When I return to my stool, Sasuke's still working on his piece. He enjoys these… sadistic pleasures, I'm sure. Shut up, painting can too be described a sadistic hobby, especially when it's so tediously boring like this.

There's ten minutes left and I'm slouching at my stool, face down into the pillow that I made with my arms. I'm in a pretty good mood right now, but I'm tired and I wanna go home… and I've just remembered that… shit – there's no food in my fridge.

And that fact, just by itself, has brought my happiness level down ten notches.

I breathed out heavily into my forearms, feeling my sleeves soak up all the heat in my breath. Food is my life. Without it, I am nothing but a hungry pile of shit; which doesn't make sense when I think about it because in order to have shit, you must have food. And I have no food. Pfft. Something better cheer me up now or I swear –

"What's up, dumbfuck?" Sasuke spoke besides me, paintbrush still poised readily in his hand as he frowned ever so slightly at the cactus he was painting, pondering over his next carefully placed brushstroke.

Y'know, now I can't help but smile myself silly. I'm smiling so wide and so hard, my mouth made the sleeves of my shirt move up my wrist slightly. Really, I couldn't ask for a better friend than Sasuke. He always knows what to do with me.

I swivelled my head to face him, still lying in my arms. "I'm foodless, Sasuke. Completely foodless."

"That's your own fault."

Ha. Figures. But I'm still grinning my ass off.

"Oh, thanks for cheering me up, Sasuke." Even though I said it rather sarcastically, he had, somehow, in that way of his, cheered me up _muchly_. I guess it was just the feeling of knowing that I've got a friend who cares about me a whole lot.

And as much as that makes me feel all happy and warm inside, it also reminds me of how much I'm coming to like Sasuke a _lot_ more than I should, and of how there's absolutely no way I'm going to sum up enough courage to risk our close friendship for that slim chance in an 'us'.

And then, of course, there's also Gaara.

Add that to the equation and fuck – what a dilemma I have here, huh?

I've gone out with Sasuke and Gaara a few more times after that first time, and now that I've actually gotten to talk to him, I've realised that, and I hate to say this… Gaara's really nice. Like, proper good and funny. And even though he's a bit on the quiet side of things, it just makes him even more perfect for Sasuke.

And just like that, I've ruined Sasuke's work of cheering me up.

God, I'm pathetic.

These days it's like I can't decide whether I want to be happy or not. One minute I'm as dandy as can be, next I'm drowning in my selfish sorrows, and after that, I'm as horny as a Kakashi that's high on porn and a potent aphrodisiac.

And who says I don't love hormones!

…Please, I beg of you to infer the immense amount of slobbering sarcasm slapped onto that statement.

It seems that my conversation with Sasuke has fizzled out and died, but even I can feel the aura of angst resonating off myself, darkening the mood of the silence. Trust me to ruin everything that is honoured with my presence – even fucking **silence.**

When there's an uncomfortable period of quiet, when I feel the need to break it, and when I can't find anything to say, my mouth decides to blurt out what's on my mind blended with any utter nonsense. Which was why, at this moment in time, I said, "Gaara's tattoo is proper cool, init?"

What the fuck? _I _don't even know why I said that.

This time, Sasuke looked away from his cactus to stare at me with a small, almost uneasy, yet concerning frown. I knew he thought it was weird for me to just bring up Gaara like that. Sasuke's not one of those people who parade around the school proclaiming their love for their boyfriend, and for some reason, I'm grateful for that. But he shook his head slightly and returned to concentrate on his artwork.

"Yeah, it's super cool," he mocked, and shoved a thumb up to match, eyes still focusing on the paper in front of him.

Do you know how inferior I feel right now? Heh. I'm such a loser. God, I annoy myself with my self-pity.

I sunk back into my arms with shame breathing down my neck. Where has my brilliant charm gone off to?

I guess Sasuke noticed this and decided to take pity on me because he carried on the conversation with a, "So you ever wanna get one?"

"What, a tattoo?" I asked, voice muffled through my sleeves.

"Mm hmm."

I turned to face him with my head still slouching on my arms, my confidence coming back. "Nah, not really. Knowing me, I'd probably regret it afterwards, y'know?"

There was a short moment where Sasuke painted and I watched him in silence.

Then I spoke. "What about you?"

"Nope," was his short reply.

I watched as he swirled the brush into a pot of murky water before dunking it delicately into a glob of bright red paint.

"Sasuke, I'm afraid cactuses aren't red," I couldn't help but point out.

"I know," he said, as he inched forwards, closer to me.

I lifted my head slightly from my arms. "Then… what are you doing?" He was still advancing on me, shifting his stool so there was just a foot's distance between our faces.

"Let's say I'm giving you a tattoo." He inched painfully slowly closer to my face, barely six inches away.

God, why's he getting so close? As much as I'm trying to control it, my breathing is speeding up and the blood in my heart is pumping faster than usual. The hormones are buzzing; making me feel like all I want right now is to be kissed senseless. And really, that _is_ what I want.

Wait, no! But Gaara!

"But…" I took a moment to try and regain a normal speed of breathing. "But I said I didn't… want one."

"Oh, you'll want one from _me._"

His breath ghosts over my cheeks and I squeeze my eyes shut because it's all I can do to wait for whatever is about to happen.

Something wet, cold and slightly gooey slaps onto my forehead, and surprisingly, it's icky and yet… rather soothing.

I open my eyes to see Sasuke's expressionless face a few inches away from my own, his right arm bared at eyelevel and his hand out of my sight.

I don't know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

"…Sasuke… What are you doing?"

The stun was still in my system from everything I was anticipating being proved absolutely wrong.

"Oh, nothing," he paused to slide the slick goo around my forehead. "Just giving you a tattoo, as I said, Naruto."

"…Oh…"

What did you want me to say?!

"It's done," he said as he leaned back and settled in the seat of his stool, seemingly admiring his work.

It's, surprisingly, incredibly frustrating to have something on your forehead and not being able to see it. So I rose slowly from my seat, heading over to a mirror that was conveniently placed near a sink in the corner of the room.

…

PAHAHA!

It had taken me a while to decipher the mirrored writing and for a moment, I was silent, shocked, though I shouldn't have been, at Sasuke's crude humour. I didn't know whether to be offended, amused or disgusted. I settled on amused, immensely so, and when I did, I full out laughed, good and proper.

Apparently 'tattooed' on my forehead, in bright, brash, bold red lettering was the word 'WANK.'. Including the full stop, yes.

And on top of this proud word was, in smaller font but still in the same garish paint, was 'Sasuke's'

'Sasuke's WANK.'

Sasuke had labelled me as his WANK.

And if that makes sense the way I think it does, then I am thoroughly proud of myself. That is, if he actually means it.

Really. I've said it before, I'll say it again. I couldn't ask for a better friend than Sasuke. He really knows how to get my spirits up when I'm a brooding bitch.

I made my way back to my stool to find Sasuke finally finishing up his cactus and packing away his supplies.

"Bastard," I smiled at him.

And right now, I'm filled with the brilliant feeling of having Sasuke for my best friend. Sasuke who proper loves me.

I hug him. I hug him hard, because I'm an emotional retard.

"Have I ever told you how much I love you?" I said, with my arms clasped around his neck.

And with a jar of water in one hand and a palette full of paint in the other, he tightens his arms around my chest beneath my armpits, giving that silent, single chuckle of his.

"Who knew dumbfucks were so full of sappy cheese?"

My shoulders shook with a little laugh and I could feel the warmth from him seeping into my chest.

"Pfft, bastard. Just say it. Go on, I know you want to."

But I know, it's really me who wants to hear it.

His shoulders bounced once more whilst he leant closer… _so close_ that his cheek was brushed up against my burning cheek and his lips were hot on my ear.

And oh my god, thoughts of the words on my forehead and the adrenaline from being in the predicament I'm in now are forcing forbidden thoughts into my mind.

Sasuke.

Wank.

Is there anything else that could equal from that?! No, I didn't think so.

It was getting hard to regain a normal rhythm of breathing in, breathing out, and I could already feel the fire in my cheeks, both from the thoughts of Sasuke doing naughty, naughty things and from the closeness of him and his lips, touching me and my hot face.

"Love you, Naru."

Oh god. His wet lips gave me a short, scorching nibble on the top of my ear before he let go of me, moved away and proceeded to pack up.

Shit.

Is it me, or is it really, fucking hot in here?

I still stood there, with my arms limp at my sides, cheeks flushed pink and breathing in slight pants.

It's not right to get this reaction from my best friend, is it?

You're meant to feel like this when your hot crush does this, right?

So what happens when your best friend _is _your hot crush?

Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck.

There's too much to think about, and I don't want to think right now.

The shrill ring of the end of school bell sounded throughout the room, and without waiting for Sasuke like I do everyday, I left the art studio, slinging my bag over my shoulder and leaving Sasuke frowning slightly at me by the sink.

- - - - -

The only thing I want to do right now is go home, curl up in bed and die trying to figure out what to do about the dilemma in my hands. Just leaving it to sort itself out won't amount to anything, I'm sure. But I know doing that won't change the fact that my fridge is still utterly empty, and so I made my way to the local supermarket a few streets away from my apartment block, trying my hardest to keep thoughts about Sasuke at the back of my mind.

Right. All I need is a few ten cups of ramen, maybe a bit o' ham, some orange juice and some milk. I'll just go in there, grab what I need and get home, get in bed, and get thinking.

Great plan.

I grabbed myself a basket, strolling down the lengthy aisles of the long-life food section and searching for my trusty brand of ramen. The orange packet says it all.

But putting it in my basket wasn't as easy as I thought.

Someone, some _bastard_, had made a grab for the same packet of yum-fucking-liscious ramen.

God, I don't have time for this.

I looked up, prepared to say kindly to whichever old lady had chosen to worsen my mood that this packet was rightfully taken, only to see, rather surprisingly, smooth, wrinkle-free, pale skin.

And upon that flawless skin, beneath the slight curls of gloriously red hair, was a small patch of pigmented skin: the symbol for love.

That, coupled with the shocking aquamarine eyes, finally got me to realise that…

This was no old woman.

This was… Gaara…?

Gaara who spurts thoughts of him and Sasuke in my mind? Gaara who is coincidentally in the same supermarket, in the same aisle, at the same time?

Gaara who is fighting over a packet of **_ramen?!_**

"Why, hello, Naruto. Fancy bumping into you here," he spoke and I hadn't even realised I'd given him reign over the orange flavoured noodles.

His expression changed from a friendly smirk to an amused and questioning smile.

"Nice tattoo."

…

**Shit.**

- - - - -

Can you say 'failed cliff-hanger'?

But still… I can't believe it is finally done…

I had trouble thinking of something for the art lesson for the _longest time_. But yah! Don't you just dig the SasukexCactus thang?

And now, after all of your praise for the previous chapter, I'm really worried about letting you down with this next one. I tried to make it longer to compensate. Reading it over, it almost seems like a different story to me, and I'm not exactly happy with it, and I know it's bad to post it when I'm unsure, but I've been keeping you guys waiting too long already, right?

I hope it's not disappointing.

♥♥ **THANK YOU MUCHLY FOR YOUR LOVE!! **♥♥


	8. It's breaking

I'm sorry.

But please enjoy.

Thank you guys, for everything.

- - - - -

A predicament.

That's what I'm in right now.

Gaara still stands with his wire basket in hand, looking right into me and waiting for an answer with amused eyes and an amused smile.

I stand next to him with my basket hugged to my chest through the handles, one arm reached out and fingers still loose from the ramen packet that it used to hold.

More importantly, I stand next to him with crude obscenities still painted painfully proudly on my forehead.

I'm in a right pickle and don't I know it.

"Sasuke gave it to me."

It was the dumbest thing I could've said, and there, I said it. Now what's my bloody prize?

"Oh, did he?" The mixture of amusement and curiosity on his face grew like a refuelled fire.

I never knew it was possible to portray a shit load of sarcasm through such a monotonous voice. Probably learnt it from Sasuke, that bastard.

"Yeah… I guess he did."

Will he take it seriously? This won't cause any friction between him and Sasuke, will it? I mean, it's obvious that I'm not _really _what Sasuke gets off on. He's got Gaara. Hot Gaara.

"He doesn't mean it. I'm sure _you're_ his wank of a lifetime," I said, grinning, just to make sure. Because as much as I want Sasuke, I don't want them to break up because of silly old me.

"Oh I wouldn't mind if he did mean it," Gaara spoke picking up another packet of ramen and scanning the list of ingredients printed on the back of it.

Is it just me, or does Gaara not seem to care at all? He's just carried on his merry way as if Sasuke going on about what he jerks off to is something that happens everyday.

My god. Is _that _what they talk about?

Still, Gaara seems all fine and dandy, but I'm left in a slowly dissipating atmosphere of awkwardness. It feels like I've missed something here.

"Besides," he looked up from the green packet, straight into my eyes and then trailing down my body. "I'd understand what he means."

Forget what I said. The awkward atmosphere has come back and slapped me in the face tenfold.

I should say something; anything, but my brain has been fried and my mouth is left hanging up and down rather erratically.

"Cute," he says and slaps me twice lightly on my cheek before stepping to the other side of me and bending over to grab a different packet.

Right.

I've just been checked out in a supermarket by Gaara.

Puns like that aren't just coincidences.

Gaara still seems totally unaffected by it all, going on about his shopping for ramen. Am I the only one that is a little freaked out by his comments? Alright, so I'm probably overreacting. Of course he doesn't mean it. Just a little joke is all. A joke. And jokes are supposed to be funny, so I better laugh a bit so as not to be rude.

Apart from… it didn't really come out like a laugh. More like a strangled, stuttered groan.

And again, Gaara's pale face turned to me with a bald eyebrow cocked up.

God, why do I have to be such an uncool nerd?

Ughh… I've gotta fix this. The word 'uncomfortable' is seeping into my veins.

"Uh… I… de-.. I mean…"

Pfft. It would help if I could speak properly

Gaara's expression fell, and then he looked at me, and he smiled. A really pretty smile. He chuckled, but unlike Sasuke's single shoulder-bounce chuckle, his laugh made him bare his straight teeth and almost made his shoulders quiver. The white teeth against pale skin, the shaking shoulders… all of it looked so out of place that it became that strange kind of _beautiful_.

Listen here, yer. I'm admitting that Gaara is proper shit-fit (1), but I don't, and I stress, I **don't** fancy him.

Not like I fancy Sasuke, no.

God, Sasuke.

"Sasuke doesn't mind you saying these things, hm?" My mouth works without me telling it to, I swear!

"Well if he's allowed to declare things like that," he gestured towards my forehead, which I had, in all honesty, completely forgotten had been crudely tainted, "then it's only fair that I should be allowed too, no?"

Gaara placed a packet into his basket then set it down on the floor. He stepped around it until he was standing straight in front of me, smile still serenely on his face.

I don't know why, but I feel the sudden urge to feel panicked. Something is telling me I should run away, that something bad is going to happen. I suppose you should call it instinct. And that's something I'm very bad at listening to.

"Still, I sure hope he doesn't," he took a step closer.

What are you doing, Gaara? Step away, please.

When he didn't, I took a step back, and just like one of those predictable horror flicks, I felt the obstruction of freeze-dried noodles digging into my back and blocking my ability to move away any further.

"Because then," his face got impossibly closer to mine, and I could almost see his teeth sparkle just in front of my eyes before he leant down slightly to be nose to nose with me, "I wouldn't be allowed to do **this**."

Holy. Fuck.

This isn't supposed to happen.

"Did you never realise it, Naruto?"

Things aren't supposed to turn out like this.

"Not even after those many times we met?"

I'm not supposed to be backed up into shelves upon shelves of ramen.

I'm not supposed to be flushed red, panting and hot.

"Did you never realise that I like you bloody lots?"

Gaara's hand isn't supposed to be shoved up my shirt.

"Did you never realise it, Naruto?"

_Gaara's lips are not fucking supposed to be on my lips._

"That I like you more than I ever liked Sasuke."

What?

No.

I can't think. Not with his hand hot against my chest, his lips biting away at mine, his hips pushed along my hips.

I can't enjoy this.

I have to get away.

I have to tell Sasuke.

God, Sasuke.

"Stop." I push him gently on his chest, but his hand remains where it is and his lips are still millimetres away.

_Smack that, all on the floor._

_Smack that, give me some more._

Oh, fuck no. I don't have time for this. That Akon song is crescendo-ing around the corner, and that could only mean one thing in my mind.

Both Gaara and I turn to face the oncoming song.

There, in all their bad-timed glory stood four Gees, one with their phone out and blaring that 'Smack That' tune. When they got close enough to make out what was going on; they froze.

_Smack that, 'til you get sore._

Fucking Akon.

Fucking gangsters.

Fuck, fuck, **_FUCK._**

Now not only has my lovely dilemma worsened, but I will also be the subject of endless judgment and endless torture from homophobic Gees.

Gee, I love you God.

It's pathetic, but I feel like crying.

But I still need to get away.

Gaara's still touching me in places I don't want him to, and the Gees are still stock-still; but I can tell their on the verge of either laughing, bullying or being sick.

I have to find Sasuke.

I need him.

I need to cry with him.

"Gaara…"

Gaara looked down at me with an expressionless face and finally let go.

"I'm sorry," I say.

He shook his head.

And I ran off, selfishly leaving him behind with the gang of Gees as Akon played me out.

Right now, I need my best friend.

I need to pour out my heart to him for the umpteenth time.

_I need Sasuke._

- - - - -

(1) Just in case it's different elsewhere, over here, we use 'fit' in place of hot or sexy or whatev. And shit-fit just came through my fingers after I decided 'fucking fit' was too out of place. I stuck a 'proper' in there to help you get the gist :D

So this is the shortest chapter yet, but I couldn't find it in me to include anymore. Plot twist, you see?

I'll understand if I don't get much feedback this time. It's short and probably crap, but you've been waiting so here it is.

And, for lack words that don't make me sound like a whiny, self-pitying, little retard, depression has hit me, so it's pretty darn hard to be funny.

Thank you anyway.


	9. It's working out

Oh my.

Hi.

I'm back, yes I am.

And I apologise, I really do; but I can't promise it won't happen again. Writing just doesn't come naturally to me anymore. But I won't give up, no!

Because, woah boy, we've hit the 400 mark! Now _that's _an achievement. So I'm not gonna let you down. Thank you all, incredibly much. I know I've said it a lot, but it really keeps me going on this story. :D

This chapter, as promised, I will dedicate to the two most MEGA-GREAT people in the world: CAT! and ♥Chad. I must confess, practically every little funny bit you find is all inspired and taken from them. I am no comic genius; these two are. They've put up with my irritating bad moods and cheered me up _so much._ They're incredible, really. And Cat will probably comment about me bumlicking them, but really. I love them. Bloody lots. You should thank them, because if they weren't here, you wouldn't be having this chapter.

Right so. On we go.

Enjoy, please.

- - - - -

It's getting dark.

The sky's turned a gloomy blue that has everything cast in its blue-ish light. As I walk, with one hand trailing along the brick wall of a tatty building, the street lights begin to flicker on; a clashing orange glow. A typical, proper British scene, this is. It's quiet. It's cold. And the wind laps at my hair.

I can't tell Sasuke.

It's just the fear of not knowing what will happen if I do! There's too many possibilities, too many doubts, and I don't know enough to have a smart guess at which one will come true. What if he doesn't believe me? What if he thinks I'm just lying, trying to break them apart for my own selfish reasons? He'll leave me for sure.

Heh.

Shows how much I trust Sasuke.

God. But the thing is, I _do _trust him. I love him; of course I'd trust him. It's just, I still don't want to risk it, because let's face it.

I'm a selfish bastard.

- - - - -

Honey, I'm home.

Heh. The humour's just not working for me anymore, is it? Sorry, but it's hard to keep things light when my heart's as heavy as a… fat man.

God, just ignore me. That was lame.

I shrugged off my jacket and tossed myself under the covers into bed, watching the timed flashing light of my charging phone.

And now I'm really at a loss for what to do.

I mean, who would've guessed? Gaara has a thing for me.

That's just… god, I can't even define it.

And not only that, but I've probably got a bunch of anti-gays on my back.

Fuck.

Usually, at times like these, I'd run off, whining my heart out to Sasuke who'd always know what to do with me. But this time, I told you: this time I can't do that. It'd break him, and it'd be my fault.

But I suppose…

Not telling him would hurt him too, wouldn't it? He'd find out somewhere else and it'd be like I had betrayed him.

But I just can't bring myself to do it!

To tell, or not to tell. That is the question.

Okay… was that third time lucky?

…Forget it. I'm being just plain gay now. Funny's just not my friend anymore.

I shouldn't even be _trying _to be funny when I've got such a dilemma in my hands. How appropriate am _I_?

I'm getting off track. Call it a sub-conscious way of running from my problems, whatever, but I'm getting way off track.

Should I –

_Hold up!_

_Wait a minute!_

_Put a little LOVE in it!_

_BER NER BER NER, NER…_

Oh, hey. I forgot I changed my ringtone.

Right, yeah, I've gotta answer it.

"Hello?"

"Naruto, I'm on my way over."

…Sasuke?

…Oh boy…

What do I do now? I'm not sure I can act normally without breaking down in a trembling mess of panic with him.

"…Whuh, why?" I asked down the phone.

He paused a while. Hesitance.

"Gaara broke up with me." He sounded upset, even through his monotony.

Tell me, am I supposed to have expected that?

Now, it's like… _Sasuke needs me._

Core blimey…

It's rare that he would come to me for comfort. I'm usually the one crying like a pathetic little boy for Sasuke to make me better.

So no matter how pressing my insecurities are, I'm gonna have to suck it up and face it. Because there's no way I can just push him away when he's done things for me that I can't even begin to say thanks for.

Sasuke needs me. Sasuke needs me to cry on. And, as a best friend, I will throw my problems to the pit of my mind and be there for him. Just like he's done for me, countless times.

Now if that wasn't the most touching speech you've heard, then I'll be damned.

"Sasuke…" I started, but I'm not quite sure what to say. "You know…"

I want to say something that'll at least cheer him up a tiddy bit, but nothing appropriate comes to mind. I'm hopeless at this. The only thing I can think of is 'I love you', but really, what good would that do?

"I know, dumbfuck," Sasuke spoke, a little lighter. "I love you too."

I sighed down the phone. I should've known. He knows me more than anyone, really. It's actually quite frightening.

"What a pleasant bastard you are," I chuckled, only very slightly. "Now get down here so I can give you the lovin' you deserve."

I heard him chuckle too, but not as lively as I'd have liked it to be.

"Thanks, Naruto."

And he hung up.

The world is out to surprise me, I swear. Just when I'm ready to settle down and sort things out for once, it just goes and chucks another twist my way.

On the bright side of things, at least Sasuke knows now, right? At least I wasn't the one who told him Gaara doesn't love him. That's a real load off my chest.

But does he know it was _me _that Gaara fancied instead?

That's what I'm worried about.

But first things first, Sasuke's gonna need me to get him back on his own two feet, and I can't be wallowing in my own pathetic self-pity as selfish as the man I am. I just won't have it.

Focus on Sasuke. That's what I've got to do. Focus on being the best best friend I can be, even if I'm dug deep into trouble, even if I'm drowning in my own worry; it's Sasuke's time to shine now.

I sat up in bed, the duvet falling around my shoulders, and got up to make my way to the sofa opposite the front door.

I'll wait for him.

Until he comes, I'll try to chuck my worries in the gutter, prepared for the time he walks through the door. No thinking about Gaara, no thinking about homophobics who'll be on my tail the next morning. Just Sasuke.

Only… I've just realised what an impossible job that is.

Because Sasuke is a part of my problems.

I still… like him more than I should. More so now than ever.

And, now, there's this constant little cheer at the back of my mind, screaming out at me, "_SASUKE'S FUCKING SINGLE."_

Sasuke's fucking single.

How do you expect me to feel about him now?

There's less of a reason for me to hold back from _making my move_, per se; but there's still that giant, grim factor of losing him as my real best friend.

I don't think I'm prepared to take that risk yet.

I don't know if I ever will.

But every day, ever so sinfully, my not-exactly-friendly like for him grows.

The pros are, _gradually, _beginning to outweigh the cons.

What I'm trying to say is: if things keep on like this, maybe one day, my demented brain is going to figure that, hey. If I can't have him as a lover, than I can't live with him as just a friend.

I don't even want to think about what disasters could happen if that day comes.

But I guess I'm forgetting that amazing things can come from that risk too.

So what do I do?

God. Life is a fucking struggle.

A single, sharp knock on the door pulls my attention.

Sasuke's here.

I sure hope he's okay enough.

I got up from the sofa that was slowly swallowing me, made my way to the door and opened it.

Sasuke stood in his usual disgraceful posture with his hood pulled up over his head.

He breathed out a small smile, half-hearted and looking tired.

"Hey," his voice cracked as he raised a straight palm in his usual greeting.

He's acting normal, looking fine.

But I know he's feeling dreadful.

And all I can think is, oh god… what have I done?

Because, right now, seeing Sasuke like this has proper tugged at my heart, and I know the reason why he's so miserable is because of silly fucking _me. _

If I had just stayed away from Sasuke like I'd planned, if I hadn't selfishly given in and tagged along with him and Gaara, if I hadn't seen Gaara anymore times than once…

This wouldn't have happened. Gaara wouldn't like me. He wouldn't even know me. Sasuke and Gaara would still be happily, hopelessly, horribly in love with each other, and Sasuke wouldn't be at my doorstep looking like his heart just died.

And I can't even do anything! I don't even know what to do to cheer him up!

_Do you know how incredibly frustrating this is?!_

But I've got to try. I've got to at least give it a good go and get his spirits back up.

The only thing I've got is, for lack of any less pansy word, my love. And I'll offer it all to him, because I owe it.

I smiled at him, an 'I hope this helps' smile, and opened my arms wide in that sickeningly corny way.

"Hi," I almost whispered.

And that was his cue. He stepped towards me and walked right into my arms, wrapping his arms around me tightly as he let out a heavy, shaky sigh. I hugged him, real hard, giving him any comfort I could, sharing the feeling of having someone close, swapping warmth, giving him relief that someone was there to pick him back up.

I've only seen Sasuke like this three times. To think, this time, it's my fault.

"Thanks, Naruto," he spoke into the crook of my neck, his hot breath tingling a few nerve endings.

No… I've got to tell him. I can't just let him think that I was completely innocent in this whole situation. Besides, I'm meant to be his best friend, the one who tells him everything.

But I can't just tell him now, not when he's like this. I can't kick him when he's down.

For a long while, we sat on the sofa, I listened to anything he had to say (which wasn't very much), I hugged him, I told him he was my best friend, I told him he would get over it, I told him I would help him. He didn't cry, unsurprisingly, but I could tell he was at a low. And then we ran out of things to say, but it was a nice silence. Sasuke sat by me with his hooded head resting on my shoulder, and I knew he was calmer.

I feel accomplished; like I've actually achieved something. I didn't ruin it with my gay humour. It was serious conversation for once.

Right now, with him leaning on me for comfort, I feel like even better best buds with Sasuke. I guess another bump in the road just leads to bringing us closer.

"Better?" I asked, glancing down at him.

"Much," he replied. "…Thanks."

It was all the thanks I needed. It's all worth it, to have a friend like Sasuke.

"What are friends for, right?" I grinned.

"Indeed," he smiled back. "Dumbfuck."

And from that heavy conversation, we were back to light chitchat again. Just the way I like it.

But I know. I better get to confessing now, the sooner the better, even if I have to break this serene scene. And I'm absolutely dreading it.

No matter how hard I try, that nagging nervousness still tugs at me, waiting for the moment he snaps and shuts away from me. But I'm gonna have to trust Sasuke not to get mad. Trust him to still be as close to me as he is now, because he has the right to know.

Listen to me. I've been such a cheesy, predictable loser all day. God.

Well let's get down to it.

"Sasuke?"

"Mm?" he grunted in response, head still resting on me.

I sat up a little and turned to face him properly, hinting for him to get his lazy head off and look at me.

"Sorry to bring bad thoughts up again," I spoke, giving him a sheepish kind of smile, but I know I didn't quite pull it off. Anxiety is eating away at me. "But you know why Gaara dumped you, right?"

He turned to sit on his side with a jean'd leg tucked under his bum, nodding at me.

He spoke in monotone again. "Fancied some other guy."

"Well, yeah." I turned to face the floor. God, this is it. I owned up quietly, "I bumped into him this afternoon. And, y'know…" I paused. God, _this is it_. "He felt me up in the ramen aisle..."

Well that was a way for my mouth to put it. Why couldn't I say it in a more sympathetic way?!

Pfft.

I grinned awkwardly at him. Maybe he'd see the funny side of it?

His eyes widened a bit, and his eyebrow flew up.

"Sasuke, I'm sorry. I'm _really _sorry. I just… I don't know! It was ramen! And I didn't know what was going on! I should've stayed away from the beginning. I…" I need to get to the point. "_I'm _that other guy. Forgive me? Please?" I looked up at him, seeing a small lifting of lips on his face. "Bruv?"

He was smiling at me.

… Say what?

"Dumbfuck."

At least he's not mad at me… I think.

At least not blown out yelling mad that was my imagination's worst case scenario.

You don't understand how fucking relieved I am right now.

"If I'd known I'd lost out to _you, _then I guess that's okay." He smiled at me.

And oh God. He looks like a proper _dashing _young chap right now. I can _feel _my crush on him growing.

Fucking fittie. (1)

But I smiled, real big, because Sasuke never fails to surprise me at how good he is at cheering me up, even when he's the one who needed it most.

"Who'd a thought, eh?" I asked, fat grin still on my face. "Gaara fancies me. He fancies the total shit out of me."

Sasuke mumbled something under his breath.

…Did I just hear that right?

It was hard to catch, and I'm not sure if it's exactly what he said, but those few words he muttered just shined in a whole beacon of hope for me.

I've got to make sure before I get too excited for nothing,

"What was that?"

"Never mind, dumbfuck," he replied. But his eyes weren't looking at me, and he fiddled a little bit with his belt. It was almost unnoticeable but my God. Sasuke's embarrassed!

I'm pretty darn sure I heard right now. And even though it was two, probably meaningless words; they implied something that made my heart swell like a fat man at a buffet.

(Hey, I think I'm finding my funny back!)

"Y'know what, Sasuke?" I said. "I love you. Too much."

And I threw him down on the sofa and hugged him good with that same massive smile stuck on my face.

"Why, I love you too, Naru," he said in an impressive high class British accent and hugged me back.

I'm in a well good mood.

I don't think I'll forget what Sasuke said, even though it could've meant absolutely nothing, the way he acted after was enough for me.

"_Gaara fancies me. He fancies the total shit out of me."_

"…_Who wouldn't?"_

…Funny how today, I went from down in the shitty dumps to flying high, high in the sky.

- - - - -

(1) Fittie – Someone who is fit, yes? Like hottie.

Fuck, that took me forever! So I hope you enjoy. Thank you, LOTS for sticking with me. :D

I think I've lost any originality I had. This chapter has got to be one of the most common, predictable, cheesy chapters yet. I got Naruto to admit it though. That's something to redeem myself, right?

Still, I read it back, and it doesn't give off the vibe I want it to, though that's probably because I kept changing my mind whilst writing, heh. Hope it doesn't disappoint you. :)

I apologise that it took me so long to update. But in that down time, I realised something.

Y'know what?

There is no right way to live life.

Fuck depression.

Happiness is the way to go.

Word.


	10. It's smudging my make up

Lately, I've not been with it. My mood's been all over the place. I'm regretting the things I've done and the thoughts I've thought in the past few weeks more than I'd regretted anything when I was a kid.

I'm not clinically depressed.

I'm just feeling down in my own human right.

Give me some time to think things through, please?

Sorry it's been so long.

This chapter is partly some of my thoughts of the past month. Maybe it's not that apt to the story, but I felt the need to express myself _somehow._

Enjoy, boys.

- - - - -

Things get a little too suffocating sometimes.

Views are changing with the wind.

Happiness is gone with the wind.

Everything has just fallen to shit.

Have you ever come home after an absolutely normal day at school, sat on your sofa, mug in hand and thought, 'Fuck. Life's not all that, is it?'?

Yeah, well here I am; typical teenager with a typical, high school lifestyle.

And fuck.

Life is a bunch of bollocks.

Self-pity is something that I hate. Tell me, what kind of hypocrite am I? There's nothing even _that _wrong with my life. Some might say I've got it pretty good, and I think so too. But things…

Things got a little too psychologically philosophical.

Things got a little too suffocating.

It's not the first time this has happened, and I'm sure I'm not the only one it happens to either. Life is, after all, impossible to figure out, right? So when things get a little bad, the point of living sort of gets lost under everything else. That's what's happening. Now that I think about it, right now, I wouldn't mind dying. Not one bit. That isn't to say I _want _to die, just that dying sounds a hell of a lot easier to do at the moment than some people make it out to be.

The stereotype issue is also worsening. There's judgement everywhere I turn and I'm noticing little posses that I hadn't before. Within groups, there's even more groups, and that's where people get touchy. Those hardcore kids, those scene kids, those nu rave kids… they just want nothing to do with each other and to be honest, _I_ don't want anything to do with _them_ if that's the way they plan to think. I'd like to think I'm a normal guy, not a crummy, labelled post-it note, thanks.

And then there's Gaara. I feel completely and utterly guilty for what happened yesterday. Did I get him into trouble? Are those Gees beating the balls off of him for loving a guy? I want to tell him that I'm sorry, that I didn't want anything bad to happen at all. But what are the chances of us meeting up now? And even if we do bump into each other, I think I'd die from the awkwardness of the situation. My brain doesn't work well in uncomfortable atmospheres and I'd shoot my mouth right off with things that I don't really mean. I make myself cringe at the worst of times.

So things are generally on the bad side of the seesaw, but they're not bad enough to make do as the reason why I'm so moody around Sasuke now. If I told him that that was what was wrong, it'd just be a poor excuse for an excuse.

"Hey, dumbfuck."

I look up at him from the corner of my eyes; head still heavy in arms, arms still heavy on desk. It's lunchtime and I'm not particularly hungry.

"Feeling down?" Sasuke says as he takes the seat next to me.

"Yeah."

"OK," he says, and I like the way he understands.

I watch him lean languorously onto his desk and I can tell he's willing to just sit besides me for the rest of the day. And now I feel guilty again because that realisation of having such a great friend isn't sparking that immense happiness it should.

I see his eyes stray to the slutty nerdwhore who's passing him suggestive looks. Despite the 'are you serious?' eyebrow raised on Sasuke's face, she makes her way over to us.

Her pleated skirt reached halfway up her pale thigh and I find myself actually rather liking the short, spiky crop of hair on her head.

As she neared, Sasuke sat back in his chair to keep a little distance more away and placed a palm languidly in front and besides his head. With his face returned to expressionless, he says, "Cock only, please."

Oof. What a let down.

The pretty, but whorish girl, however, simply smirked gleefully before flinging herself onto Sasuke's desk, legs spread wide on either side of his hips.

If I was my normal self, I'd chuckle.

Sasuke seemed not to like her, but I did; for one reason. She doesn't seem to care that Sasuke isn't one of _them_, a fellow nerdwhore, and it feels like I need someone who breaks the bounds of cliques in my life; someone like this girl to wake me up from the silliness of stereotypes.

"I've plenty," she said and made a less than hasty grab, shuffle and nudge to her own groin…

Which was when I realised that _she_ was actually a rather hot guy decked out in ultimate drag.

Sasuke himself chuckled a bit at the discovery.

"Sai's the name."

"Nice to meet you."

They shook hands; a mimicry of formality when it's obvious that there's some form of attraction between them. It shouldn't be there, but there's a nagging monster called jealousy clawing at my guts.

Sai turned his head a little before stopping when he realised that I was here too. The moment he saw me, a suspicious twinkle sparkled in his eye before he leant forward, dangerously close towards Sasuke, placing slender fingers against Sasuke's chest and whispered in his ear with his slanted black eyes still staring straight at me.

Jealousy is pumped.

"That blond cutie is Naruto," Sasuke replies to his whisper, his attention still on the drag queen in front of him.

Jealousy is watching that skirt covered, free-access groin inch along the desk, closer towards Sasuke's chest.

"Boyfriend?" Sai asks, and I almost think, almost hope Sasuke will say yes.

"Friend."

Jealousy is noticing the absence of a '_Best _friend'.

Sai giggles breathily. "I guess it's my lucky day then."

And now I can't even think how bad _my _luck is. Just when the hope of Sasuke and me becoming something more becomes a possibility, some drop dead gorgeous guy swoops in and romances with Sasuke in less than a minute. But surely, Sasuke won't give in to him so easily after he's just broken up with Gaara, right? God, I should have more faith in him. Even if he does, I should be happy for him, just a like a best friend should.

… I guess it doesn't make that much difference anyway... It's not like I was ever going to muster up the courage to make my move.

Maybe I should offer them some more space. Maybe that'd be a good excuse to get away for a bit because right now, jealousy is having the time of his life.

"I think I'll lea…" But I couldn't even finish.

Somehow, Sai had manoeuvred his way across the desks and… into my lap.

His perfect legs were now tight on either side of my waist, one of his hands on my thigh and his other playing with the strings of my hoodie.

Holy mother of fuck.

"Say," he breathes across my neck. "How about you come to my gig down at The Pit tomorrow night?"

I can feel the hot flushing of my cheeks as his hand slides down onto my chest. I can see his thick eyelashes lower and the stripe of red cosmetics lining them. His lips pull upwards in an innocent smile.

What about that, eh? Felt up by two boys in two days. And both of them weren't Sasuke.

I place my hand on his chest, just barely pushing away, and I turn, not wanting to make the mistake of looking up into his stunningly slanted eyes.

"Um… I…" And this is where I give up talking because nonsense will be the only thing that spouts out. This would've been a lot easier if he wasn't so fucking fit.

"He'd love to," Sasuke butted into the silence.

I'd love to?

I look up at Sasuke, and he's smiling.

But something's a little off.

Sai let out another breathy little giggle across my neck. "See you at seven then, babe."

He leans over and my back stiffens uncomfortably before I feel something hot, undoubtedly his mouth, gently bite the tip of my ear.

And he gets up and leaves, leaving me a little breathless and a little stunned.

The cold air skims across my ear, making the small wet patch cooler than the rest of my heated body; an echoing feeling from a couple days ago in the art room where Sasuke had nibbled exactly on that same spot.

We sit in silence for the rest of the lunch hour.

Me, trying to sort all my problems into alphabetical order in neat, little piles and still trying to figure out why Sasuke's mood has suddenly drowned.

Sasuke, looking as if he's deciding whether or not to regret something he's done.

We sit in silence.

- - - - -

In bed, I lie and I think.

With things as they are, the worth of life has gotten lost again. I think I'm thinking about it too much, so much so that I've actually come up with conspiracies that don't seem so impossible anymore. Some things are beginning to make sense in a way they hadn't before and others are seeming to lose their meaning.

I've come to think that life is dependable on what you live for. What you think is right and wrong, what you think is _cool, _what you think is despicable… it all depends on what you live for. And because so many people live for so many different things, it's inevitable that there'll be disagreements.

You could live for friends, when every minute of them is worth everything to you. You could live for something more materialistic, like fashion, when all that matters is the clothes on your back. You could live for art, or for music, for food, or for singing.

Eventually, these different meanings of life give birth to stereotypes; different sides of a war, if you will.

As I lie in bed, thinking, I wonder what _I _live for.

And all I draw is blank, after blank, after blank.

Maybe, I was born prematurely. Maybe I was born with a missing gene, the gene that gave me an opinion. It seems like that's what I'm missing from my life, and I'm having trouble finding it.

Without it, I don't think I can find the answer to my problems of being judged, or figuring out stereotypes.

And still, that is only one anxiety that I chose to think about as I lie in bed. What about Sasuke? What about Gaara? What about Sai? What are they thinking? Are they thinking of me like I'm thinking of them? What do they live for? Do they see things the way I see them?

Either way, as I'm in bed, laying and thinking of the things that are wrong with my life, I become the most selfish bastard I have yet. Because my life's not rubbish. Comic Relief reminds me every year that there are worse off kids in Africa, you don't need to tell me. And here I am, living in practically the richest country in the world, with lots of things other people don't have; here I am, little boy blue, crying because I'm having boy troubles, friend troubles, people troubles. Petty little problems compared to AIDS.

Ha.

And even I can feel the bitterness of that laugh.

Because as I lie in bed, thinking about how I'll face tomorrow…

I've never felt more ready to die.

It's frightening how true that statement rings out.

And I'm scared.

- - - - -

Thanks for the growing support everyone :)

I know it may seem a little ridiculous that Naruto is feeling like that, but isn't that what happens to everyone? Little, trivial problems can bring you down really hard.

Don't think he's suicidal; he's not. I hope it doesn't come across like that. I don't want this to turn into those third-rate 'my life is totally shit, I'll kill myself' stories.

Thanks for reading.

Sorry for the late update. I'll try not to make it so long again. I'll try hard.


	11. It's a new friend

Hi.

Sorry.

Absolutely sorry.

So maybe things haven't completely sorted out, but I think you deserve something from me.

This chapter feels different to me. And I'm not sure if it's a good different or a bad different. I just ask you to read it with an open mind, because it probably doesn't give off the feel I want it to give.

I kept changing my mind when I was writing this. Sometimes I wanted Naruto to be solemn and sad, sometimes I wanted him to be beautifully simple and other times I wanted him to be the brash, cocky little fucker that I've established him to be so far.

Because, I've come to dislike my writing. I'm too obnoxious. Just like Naruto comments on later on. But when I typed this in my current mood and Naruto came out all different and changed from before, I couldn't decided if you would like it or hate it. So I kept changing my mind, and I guess that just made it worse.

But. I guess… For best results, try to ignore the loud mood that the out-of-place loud comments make. I think, I think I want this chapter to be simple and pleasant. I can't make up my mind. Forget my rambling.

Just enjoy. Please.

- - - - -

The next night, I find myself drunk on awkwardness and wondering what to do with myself near the door of a club. Music is flying through the air, and a part of me wants to let go of reality. But I stay grounded, holding onto a nearby ledge as a couple shoves past me on their way to the bar behind.

I wish Sasuke was here. I'd begged him to come, but he only made excuses and, much to my guilt, offered me a lift. When we had arrived, I tried pulling him from the car, tempting him with the offer of suave boys and Frank Iero look-alikes, but he drove off with a small goodbye. And I'm left still, teetering on the alternate balls of my feet, waiting for someone to pick me up and show me around.

The music's loud enough to leave vibrating traces through my heart, and from what I can tell, only about a quarter of the crowd is stumbling drunkenly around. Personally, I don't really like it when no one gives a damn about what they're saying or doing or about you because they're too gone off drunk to be bothered but to enjoy the present and give a donkey's about tomorrow. And when the atmosphere gets that much thicker with intoxication, even turning a corner makes you anxious because there's always that possibility of falling into someone's drunken fuck. So, first impressions are pretty good, I'd say. Pretty sober, pretty loud, pretty good.

God, I'm getting all clammy again. The nerves are biting away at me, and to be honest, I'm not exactly sure why. I guess, maybe because Sai is someone you'd generally get nervous over. I mean, he _is _one of the most temptingly convincing women I have ever seen in my life. I'm sure he gives more than just me and my head a hard time; I know it.

But there's a stronger maybe for the cause of my nerves, a maybe that's stabbing little pins into the back of my brain. Ever since that lunch hour where Sai first waltzed over to us, Sasuke's been acting… a little off. And what frustrates me is that I don't even know what's up with him at all, that's what frustrates the hell out of me. Because in a way, to me, that's failing one of my duties as an always-there-for-you friend, something that I devote myself to, especially for Sasuke. Especially for Sasuke. And now I can't figure out what's wrong, and he won't tell me why, and I guess yeah, so maybe that _is _why my toes are stepping on themselves in anxiety right now. I'm genuinely worried about Sasuke.

"You made it."

Holy fucking cow!

Even in my damp mood, I'm still able to get the living shit scared out of me. And fuck, does my mouth run dirty when my nerves are frazzled or what?

I turn and I see Sai with a stretchy smile on his face. There's something not quite… _there _about his smile, but I see the effort he puts into it and I know he's actually truly happy that I could make it. I like that.

It's unsurprising that it was him who snuck up on me, but what's really surprising is that he's not in his usual tight, girl gear. Actually, he's just wearing a baggy cotton hoodie and loose cargo shorts. I look down and I see he's going bare foot whilst his green flip-flops dangle from his long fingers. And I decide that I like this too.

Suddenly, it's like this feels like a whole different Sai from that flamboyantly cocky one from school, and it's a little unsettling how much more I prefer this one to the awfully fit other.

For a minute, I catch myself wondering what Sai lives for. I wonder what he thinks is right and what he thinks is downright 'cool' and how these things decide how he acts.

And for the life of me, I can't figure it out.

Y'know what? I think I realise now that I can't just figure it out from two one-minute meetings with him. I barely know him, why should I have expected him to turn up in a corseted tutu? Sai seems like one of those people who are so sure of themselves, so familiar with their role in life. So what if he seems to have changed since yesterday, he still seems certain about how he wants to come across. And still yet, who am I to say he has 'changed'? I don't know him. I need to remind myself of that.

The more I think about it, the more I'm dumbfounded at how he's managed to find such a sturdy place in his personality. It gets me to realise that maybe he and Sasuke aren't so different. Sai is special too.

So no, I don't know Sai, but right now, I think I'm going to set myself a goal. I'm going to get to know him. Because, right now, I think he's one in a million. I think he's going to be a good friend. And I'll start to know him by telling him so.

"You're special."

And oh god. Only now do I realise what a brash, un-thought-out plan that was. I just hope it's given the right kind of impression I want to give… that I think I want to give.

He looks at me, and then he looks at my eyes.

The smile on his lips stretches that little bit more before he lets out a short, breathy chuckle. I don't know why, but I sense some kind of relief resonating from it.

"Thanks," he says, and it's amazing how I can hear him over the heavy stomp-beat of some bass line of a song.

I can feel the silence settling between us, softly laying down comfortably in the two-foot space between our bodies. It's awkward, but it's only awkward because it's _not _awkward, if you know what I mean.

I look at Sai again and he's watching the synchronised crowd of dancers and dancing people with his green flip-flops still in between his fingers. Now though, he's twiddling with them, swapping them from one finger to the other by the thin plastic that's meant to go between his big toe and his next toe.

It's strange, but I kind of enjoy just standing here with him.

His fingers suddenly stop fiddling. I look up at him and he's looking at me.

"My show starts in ten minutes," he says and he's back to looking at the bustling pit of sweat and flesh.

"Are you going to get ready now?" I ask. And I wonder what I'll do whilst he's gone. I wonder if my thoughts will wonder back to Sasuke who…

Who I haven't even thought about for those ten minutes me and Sai were together.

…Oh, shut up, Naruto. That doesn't mean anything. Maybe… maybe it might be a little bit _good _for me if I let go of Sasuke for a little bit. Just a little bit.

Fuck all hell, what am I thinking?

"No," Sai replies. It takes me a few more seconds to realise it's to my earlier question.

No. He leaves it at that and I love the simplicity of his rebellion.

"Just a couple more minutes here," he continues. "I'm comfortable."

He's only standing, so I presume he doesn't mean that physical, this-floor-is-so-soft-on-my-feet comfortable, but more of the socially, emotionally comfortable feeling; that I-like-this-simple-atmosphere-with-you comfortable.

I smile at him even though he's not looking at me and I say, "So am I." Because I am.

And now, I'm feeling nice, feeling content, and maybe just a little bit happy. Even though there's this feeling in me that echoes of my previous downtime and of worries about Sasuke, even though I know I'll wake up tomorrow with a few tonnes of guilt on my shoulders, I let myself live the moment for a while. I let myself act like a drunken alcohol junkie, enjoying the present and giving a donkey's about tomorrow. And even to my ears, I'm a stinking hypocrite.

The song booming through the speakers changes four times before Sai turns to me and says, "I'm gonna get going. I'll see you from on stage, yeah?"

I nod. I've been terribly quiet for a while. It had been because of my sombre mood, and though now it's been lifted, even if slightly, I still don't feel the need to talk much at all. There's something so uncomplicated here right now, in this atmosphere, in this aura that's come over me, and I think I really like it. I think it's something that I've needed.

But I wish Sasuke was here too. So he could be simple with me and uncomplicated with me. So I could share this pleasant niceness with my best friend.

I think I better head up closer to the stage so I'll get a better view. Loads of people are already starting to weave their way to the front. There's this one chain of people to the left, about ten or so of them, and they're all holding hands, dragging the person behind them whilst being dragged by the person in front, making a squiggly gap everywhere they go until the first one reaches the black raised platform of the stage. They've all got this massive grin plastered on their faces, like they're having the time of their lives just because them and their friends are sticking together, doing something different.

And it reminds me of Sasuke, and of how much more I want him to be here right now. And my temporary selfish happiness dissipates the more I think about him and about how I'm having fun when he's down in the dumps. Those few tonnes of guilt have come upon me earlier than I thought. I slow down in the crowd.

Should I turn back and call Sasuke? But I can't leave Sai now. And what would I do if I did?

I guess… I guess I have to make it up to him tomorrow. And I still need an answer as to why he wanted me to come to this in the first place. And to why he's feeling low. I just hope that –

What…

…the fuck?

My hand's been grabbed and I'm being dragged through the fifties of people. I look up, and the grinning face of a stranger greets me. I'm being pulled, rather quickly, and I'm stumbling over empty crisp packets on the dark ground. I look down, and both our knuckles are white because we're gripping each other so hard. I look over, and I see he's holding some other girl's hand, and we're all being pulled.

And it's only now I realise that I've been joined onto the link of smiling faces.

I… Um… Okay…?

It's less than ten seconds before we reach the front. He lets go of me, gives me this huge grin and a thumbs up before the crowd mingles around further and I lose sight of him.

God. I will never get used to club life.

Before I get used to my place in the mess of people, there's a loud, satisfying _click_ and all the lights go black. The crowd goes mad.

I can't help but be reminded of my last birthday when me and Sasuke went to that gig. Granted, it's a lot smaller here and a lot more sober, but there's still the same thrum of anticipation in the air. I guess Sai's band is doing pretty well for themselves to get the people ready to piss their pants for them.

A seductive as hell chuckle resounds throughout the room from the amps on stage.

Boy, that made me shiver.

This genius bass riff starts playing and then the drums break through the music, each bang that boomed came with the switching on of a spotlight before the stage and the five people on it became visible.

I see Sai, and he's decked out in this slick outfit of tight, skinny pinstriped slacks, white shirt and black waistcoat, and I notice that his whole band is wearing only black and white suit-style clothing. Sai's got this ultra-long-necked bass in his hand, and even that is white.

He plays amazingly, quietly competent, the drummer smashes his heart out, one guitarist stays technical and cool, the other is absolutely full of beans, going crazy with his spirit, and the singer is theatrical beyond your imagination.

It's bloody electric.

- - - - -

The show went on for just over an hour. It's about eleven now and I think I'll go meet Sai when he comes out round the back alley, probably hauling equipment.

As I head out, the wind cuts into my bare skin because fuck, it's cold and I didn't bring a jacket.

I walk around and I wait awhile before the singer from Sai's band comes through the back fire exit with an amp in hand and big, white sunglasses perched on his nose. He grins a wide smile at me, full of teeth and waves a bit with his free hand. I stop rubbing my arms and wave back a little too.

When Sai comes out, he's back in his cargo shorts and hoodie, but this time his flip-flops are on his feet. His hands are full with a guitar case, an amp and wires so I think I'll be nice and give him a hand.

He smiles that off-ish smile at me when I take the amp from his left hand and we walk towards a van where the rest of his band and shoving the equipment.

"Enjoy the show?" he asks.

"Hell yeah," I smile at him. "You were brilliant."

We take turns to slide the boxes and cases into the boot of the van and then hang around the street side lampposts for a bit. The other band members are milling abut nearby.

In the afterglow silence of the hot show, I start wondering about Sai and his personality again. It's not too soon to ask him about something so philosophical is it? I'll take the risk.

"Sai?"

His hands are in the pockets of his jumper and he makes the cutest sound I have ever heard, "Hmm?"

I smile a bit. "You seem… different. From yesterday, I mean."

His lips turn upwards slightly but he still stares at the stars whilst he replies, "You mean, where's my skirt?"

I chuckle. "Well that, and… I'm not quite sure what to say, but you seem a lot more… sober."

He looks at me now. His eyes are dark. "I guess I am."

We don't say anything for a beat.

"I just have these obnoxious moments, you know?" he continues.

Oh, I know. I know what it's like to act so shamefully loud when I don't mean to. I want to be quiet and meaningful, like Sasuke, and like Sai is right now. But my mouth likes to run a mile a minute and I end up making fools of myself.

I think this, but I only nod.

"But I'm not like that really. I think it's just a nervous reflex," he says, and he turns to run his finger along a glowing street lamp beside him.

"You were nervous?" I question.

"Heh, yeah," he smiles. "Because I wanted to know you."

I like how it wasn't a 'because I fancy the balls off of you' or even a 'because I like you', not presuming he does fancy me.

Because he wanted to know me. Funny, because I want to know him too.

I tell him so.

His smile grows, and I'm glad I did tell him, because suddenly I want Sai to be happy almost as much as I want Sasuke to be happy. I think it's something in his smile.

"Really?" he doesn't really ask. "Good. Then let's get to know each other."

"Okay."

And I love how uncomplicated it is.

I love how I know Sai will become one of my best friends, and I love how there's no love-love feeling in my love for Sai. Not like there is for Sasuke. There's only this strong reassurance that we'll probably be friends for a good long time before something fucks us over.

And then it's silent again, but it's not awkward at all.

_POW! Yeah, I'm Lethal to the B _

_POW! If you don't know about me _

_POW! Better ask someone quickly _

Oh boy. That song fades in from around a corner and mobile phone quality British grime can only mean one thing.

_Coz POW! _

Ohhh boy.

_Yeah, I'm POW! _

I turn and there, strolling proudly down the pavement are three Gees, one of them, with his trucker cap barely on his head, has his phone whipped out and Lethal Bizzle is blasting out of it.

… Don't tell anyone, but I kind of… like this song.

_Yes I'm POW! _

It's silly how I'm almost hurting with desperation of how I don't want this time to be spoilt. But despite all my prayers and pleas, they continue bopping down the street towards us.

When they're almost a foot away, they stop. I'm a little bit scared… only an incy wincy bit. Really.

The one in the middle grins at us and reaches out his hand.

"'Ey Sai, man. Everything been goin' good for you?" his deep voice drawls out. Slap me for being surprised at how normal he sounds.

Sai smiles back at them and takes his hand, shaking it loosely whilst he gets a clap on the back from the Gee.

To tell the truth… I don't have a clue as to what's going on here.

Sai… and a Gee?

I…

…Heh… Why not?

_Why bloody not? _

What am I getting confused over? What am I surprised about?

Friends happen don't they? What does it matter that they dress different, do different things, listen to different music? What does it matter? Hell, I don't even know that. This Gee could go home and go to sleep to heavy metal screamo for all I know.

I think… I think I'm a flaming, idiot of a hypocrite. I know I am. But this… this has just slapped me in the face to double check. I've been a judgemental, lowlife excuse for a filthy scumbag. I think it's time I changed my ways. It's like a revelation. Almost. I'll just have to act on this little bit of light that's been shone on me before it disappears.

The Gee turns to look at me after some talking with Sai.

"Who's the new man, Sai?" he asks, still smiling.

"Naruto," Sai answers.

"Nice to greet you," he says to me, holding out his hand.

I take it and I smile.

"Nice to meet you too."

- - - - -

Okay. So. It's done. And sometimes I like it, sometimes I don't.

I'm a little bit anxious of your feedback, but well, just tell me what you really think and I'll be grateful.

Thanks for the time.


	12. It's dead beavers

Sorry.

The quality might take a little dive near the end, but...

Please enjoy.

**EDIT: **Fuck,I forgot to thank all my lovely reviewers. It means a lot, honest. Especially when I get some thoughts out of you. Really. You don't know how much you mean to me. In the summer I was in New York City, New Jersey, Toronto and Quebec, so maybe I saw some of you there by chance. It would've been nice to thank you all.

Thanks.

- - - - -

When I leave for home, it's past midnight.

It doesn't seem like a good idea to call Sasuke for a lift back. He can stay up pretty late, I know; way into the wee hours of the morning, but that's only when he wants to. And I also know that at the moment, there's something up with Sasuke, something that's leeching off his mind. When I get down like that, all I want to do is crawl into the warmth of my bed and lie, and think, and sleep. That's why I've decided to leave him to his bed and blankets and to leave his phone number undialed.

So. Bus? Or Train? I'm not all that sure when the last batch of public transport takes leave, but for some reason, after talking and standing with Sai and his friend (whose name sounded nothing like Gee), it feels like I've got all the time in the world to waste.

I'm in no hurry.

I wouldn't mind waiting at some deserted train platform till the sun flies up to glare in my face. Actually, I could use some time to organise and rationalise my thoughts. I could do the long trek home by foot if I wanted to. In fact, being the lone rider on a bus doesn't sound so appealing anymore, and nor does having my brains rattled and shook out via my ear thanks to rickety train tracks. Good old feet, then. It's about time I did something other than mope on a school-desk. Pedestrian Naruto, that's who I'll be for the first couple hours of the new day. Be careful not to run me over, joy riders.

I close my eyes, take in a cold breath of fresh night air, and set myself off. As luck would have it, I'm walking directly against the wind so I can feel my hair being blown away from the roots behind me. The skin on my face is so cold that it starts to feel impeccably clean. My eyes begin to water too. Usually, I'm pretty sensitive to the cold. But now?

I don't mind. Not none of it.

It's a strange feeling, this. This kind of childish carelessness. I'm making brash, unequal decisions, taking joy in simple things... it's being silly really, but there's some aura about myself that I'm aware of right now. I wonder why I feel like this. I think, probably, it's from being with Sai, seeing him, being and experiencing his pure simplicity. He revels in that. In this. He lives in it. This small bubble of pleasant indifference.

I'm not quite sure how to put this into words, but however nice this is, it's not making my happy. It's not depressing me either. I'm only becoming some boy who notices everything in apathy. It's strange, but then I don't think it's strange anymore because in this state of mind, I choose not to dwell on it. I look at it, notice it, then move on to the next dead dandelion in some old man's driveway.

As I walk, step after step, my hands find their way to my clavicles, to my shoulders, to each other's knuckles, feeling and pressing the bone under my skin. It's oddly comforting, and a little reassuring. I hug myself around the back and finger the diving spaces between my ribs; I make sure I'm really this person, this human boy.

When I was little, I used to imagine the people around me as breathing skeletons, picturing all that complex skeletal structure function like clockwork under all that other human junk. It was really surreal thinking that everyone had that in them; great white sticks of calcium-fed stone, a hole for a nose. I used to squint my eyes at them real hard and think: "Wow, you're weird", because really, it is weird, isn't it? But then I'd look down, and through my shoes and through my socks I'd see a hundred little white bones in my toes and then remember that it was in me too; I had balls of bone in my shoulder sockets, I had a big white rock in my head, I had a hole for a nose too.

I carry on trekking my way home, feeling and almost seeing the bones in me. My imagination is nothing compared to when I was kid; I've lost it. It's harder to keep focus on the little bits of skeleton in my hand, but I figure it's good enough if I can feel them there. They're tangible and to me, that means that I'm still me in my body. This strange mood of mine is making me disorientated so I need to remind myself of that.

For ten minutes, I walk down the road in this kind of fashion, controlled by my awkwardly simple mood, noticing that number sixty-six of Blythswood Drive has an ice cream van parked up its driveway, noticing the twenty-odd pencils poking out of someone's rubbish, each one perfectly and neatly snapped in half, noticing the worn road markings that almost paint out the silhouette of a faded gasmask, the dog-prints accidentally moulded into a block of pavement, the broken manhole, the number plate that is almost the same as Sasuke's. I notice it all, then walk on. Do nothing. Indifference. Simple.

But then it's gone. I'm just walking again; plain walking. Walking with worries and walking as a teenager who's overwhelmed by mediocrity. Pedestrian Naruto.

And fuck, it feels like my mind is warping under my skull. I've changed. I'm changing. I keep changing. Me, the way I think, the way I think I want to be, the way I think I am, the way I think of other people and the way I think other people think of me... it's all changing, morphing. It's always been.

I don't want to change. I think. But now I want to change. I change. Am I simple? Am I an obnoxious bastard? I need to stop asking myself questions.

Fuck.

I don't know what I want.

Okay.

I don't know what I want. This is the only thing I know about myself. I don't know what I want. I don't think I've ever known what I want and that's probably what spawned my problem with stereotypes.

I stop walking. My fingers are digging in my scalp. When did I get a headache? When did I close my eyes?

I think I should try to calm down a little bit, though I'm not sure when I started to panic. Perhaps I should breathe. Squat down and breathe, yeah.

My knees creak as I crouch down. My feet look a bit clumsy, sitting directly on a crack in the pavement. I use my knees to put pressure at the sides of my head because I can squat that low and I wonder when I got so flexible. I unthread my fingers from my hair and when I look at them, they're quivering from panic and confused adrenaline. They make my hood quiver too when I reach to pull it over my head. It's cold.

Life is a pisstake, that's for sure. There's no way I can know what I want, right? After all, I was born with that missing gene, that opinion gene.

I crouch, silently, crushing my eyelids shut together to try and get rid of this rush of doubt. Suddenly, it's like the whole atmosphere has fallen. I don't know why. Maybe it's just been building up all this time, I don't know.

But now, I realise how... how lost I really kind of am. I don't mean to sound pathetic. Sorry.

The pavement is cold and hard on my forehead as I bend down further to touch against it. My nails dig deep into my palms.

As much as I'm baffled and, I guess, upset... I'm _angry_. Do you know how frustrating this is? Why can't I just open my eyes and decide what I want? What the hell is stopping me? What the fuck is _wrong _with me?!

It feels like my nails are growing as they bury brutally deeper into my skin. My teeth are rigid, gritting against each other unmoving and getting my jaw muscles aching. My toes curl. My whole body tenses, containing and caging up aggravated, restless energy. The pain in my hands soothes me slightly as my nails finally taste victory in managing to break the skin of my palm.

I want to fucking scream. I want to punch myself into dumb oblivion.

I almost turn into some kind of beastly animal as the power all stored up in my body and legs just _lets_ _go_ and I _pounce _up into a flying sprint, like a fox.

"_AAAYRRRGGH."_

It echoes round the neighbourhood. A streetlamp flickers.

I run, keep running, feeling wind strike my face and my scalp, running for my life and for my death all the way down, down, down the long street.

My hood falls from my hair as it cowers from the fast wind. My pants grow louder in my head, my limbs start to ache, but I run for ages.

It feels like, like some kind of sick freedom.

I can run all I want as long as my body lets me, and the wind is refreshing on my skin, but I know that this is just a temporary vent, a temporary solution and like a temporary tattoo, it'll soon rub off. And when it does, I'll be left, body aching, and mind scrambling with my so-called crisis. Bloody unfair.

Still, I keep this freedom as long as I can.

I run fast.

The roads are deserted.

Before I know it, I'm halfway home.

- - - - -

My limbs have calmed down, legs slowed to a jumbling amble.

I've always had horrible posture; my arms dangle behind my hips though my back still seems to arch a little in a hunch. I'm too lazy to correct it.

I focus on doing things, on moving this way and that and finding my way home and picking the calluses on the tips of my left fingers off with one hand. This way, I know I won't get sucked back into the ugly black vortex of insane thoughts.

I make a left turn.

It's Sasuke's street – two roads up from mine.

I walk, slowly, painfully, targeting each foot deliberately onto cracks where the pavement slabs meet. Focus.

Sasuke's house is only fifty steps away. I wonder how he's doing. I wonder if he's okay. I would visit him, but it's probably close to one in the morning now, and he's probably sound asleep in bed, maybe possibly sucking his thumb. He's probably sleeping like a soldier on his side, long, lithe body in a perfect human line. A little pool of dribble has probably collected in his right cheek, rippling slightly with every quiet breath he exhales.

Heh. Right. I'll stop that now.

I pause five steps before I reach the house, and I look up.

... Is... Is that Sasuke?

The headlights of Sasuke's bruised, black car are on. The front passenger's door is open. The small lamps inside the car are all on too, casting beams of light through the glassy windows.

What's he doing?!

Even though my legs ache like hell, I jog up to the car. For some reason, my heart feels like... like it's swelling and growing and in no more than a minute it's about to explode into a million shreds of blood-confetti. Every time my foot pounds on the ground, my pulse seems to beat twice as hard.

After four steps, I stop. Just to catch my breath. Just to calm down. I don't even know why my body is racing like this. Maybe I ran too much; tasted too much false freedom.

I take the last step and stand right outside the open door of the car.

For a second, I just stand there, still and silent. My fingers fiddle with one of the belt loops on my jeans. But then I realise.

Fuck. What am I waiting for?

I bend down and poke my head and shoulders through the door, hands now comfortably in my pockets where they can fidget hidden from Sasuke's view.

"Sasuke?" I feel my neck muscles work as my head tilts to the side. My voice cracks a little from being exposed to the biting wind.

He's sitting there, stiff in the driver seat, both hands positioned frigidly perfect on the steering wheel. He doesn't turn to look at me. His eyes are trained on the windscreen, or somewhere far beyond it.

He doesn't answer. I watch as his knuckle bones protrude further from his skin as his grip tightens on the wheel. I try to imagine all those tiny bones inside him, working like clockwork, but I can only hold the image for a few seconds before it blurs in and out of focus.

"Sa...Sasuke?" I ask again, voice shamefully stuttering because really, I'm worried and perhaps a little bit scared. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting," he finally replies, slowly. His voice is grey – toneless, strained. "I'm waiting for you to call me and ask for a lift home."

Oh...

"Oh..."

Fucking stupidity. Fucking irony.

But it feels like I can't be too angry now, because it's obvious; Sasuke's feeling down and out.

Remnants of cold wind sweep past and find refuge through the car door, seeping through my jeans on the way.

I pull my hand out of my pocket. My skin is raw red at the fingertips and where my joints lie, rubbery from the lack of temperature. Slowly, though I'm not quite sure why so slowly, I reach into my jeans pocket and pull out my mobile – the metal warm compared to my flesh.

I take out my other hand and fuck, it's suddenly super extra cold as more wind whips at the freshly revealed skin. My fingers fumble and I can almost feel my bones creaking against each other as I press twelve buttons on my phone.

I bring it to my frozen ear.

There's silence.

And then there's the familiar rumbling sound of vibration coming from Sasuke's phone on the dashboard.

We both watch it shift at some awkward angle towards him as the vibrations conflict with the hard surface.

My lip starts to hurt. Since when did I start biting it?

Sasuke finally takes his sleek phone gently from the dashboard, clicks once on a button and brings it to his left ear, his eyes returned to focus on his steering wheel.

"Hello." All else is silent; no fighting wind, no struggling trees.

It's unreasonably eerie. Even the late night drunkards stumbling up the road stumble silently.

I can't even hear the air.

"Sasuke," I say, softly, voice croaky all over again. "Will you take me home?"

Take me home...

... The hiding philosophy in that touched a vein in my heart.

Take me all the fucking way home.

Something... something unstoppable just bombed something to smithereens inside me...

Fuck, what in the world is happening to me?

Overwhelmed. That's the word for it. Something has stripped apart some kind of dam in me, and now everything, all the sewage and all the dead in vain beavers... absolutely _everything _is about to come gushing out.

Some emotional wreck I am.

But I think Sasuke feels it too.

He looks at me, right dead in the eye and speaks into the end of his mobile, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll take you home, Naruto." He's croaking too. He gets it. He gets me.

I can't take it. My heart is exploding. My lungs are holding too much tension to hold any air. My kidneys feel like they're about to fail from stress. My eyes... I wonder if I'm crying yet.

I can't even bring myself to question _why _this is happening. I act on impulse. Do what I feel. I throw my phone to the floor and lunge, unthinkingly into him, holding him, mashing him and breathing him. Sasuke's too warm.

I feel his arms around me quickly. His skull touching mine at my right side. Our bones crushing together, squashed somehow onto one driver's seat.

My cheeks are wet. I'm crying.

My neck is wet. He's crying.

What a couple of bloody wusses, huh? What a rubbishly pointless scene to ruin a good movie.

But I don't care.

I know this is special. I can _feel _it. This is the first time I've seen Sasuke cry so he must feel it's special too. I can't explain it. I don't think I'll ever be able to. But it's like we both know there've been things that have been wrong and things that have made us frustrated and we haven't told each other about them. We've kept secrets. But that's only half of it.

Sasuke pulls back a little to look at me. His head rests against the clear window of his closed car door. His eyes have never looked blacker.

I wonder if it's normal to be so close to your best friend.

I wonder if it's normal to want to kiss the complete life out of him.

But then I don't wonder anymore. Because holy mother...

He kisses me.

And I don't think I've ever felt anything like it.

I...

I...

I tingle. All over. From my feet to my spine to my face. My lips are electricity. My eyes find themselves shut hard and strong, but the kiss is only gentle. A full touching. But my god, I never knew a simple touch like this could feel so hot.

I feel his thin finger fall tenderly along my neck, tracing a skinny line down the side unknowingly.

My heart soars. It's given up on exploding and has settled on just swelling and floating instead. Somehow, it's grown great, powerful wings and is having a flying spree all about my organs.

But then it slows to a gentle hover, settling as the soft, sticky sound of skin peeling gently apart reaches me.

I think I love that sound.

I do nothing for a beat. I didn't realize it was over for a minute. But then I open my eyes again, and Sasuke's black, black eyes are staring at me, one or two tear tracks are visible just under them.

This is special.

I just wonder if it'll still be special in the morning.

But fuck it all for tonight.

I've just been kissed.

I dawdle in happiness for a little longer before I remember how we'd gotten in this position. How just a few minutes ago, we were sharing tears. As much as I want to kiss till the sun comes up, I also don't want regrets, and I don't want to start something without being sure of everything else. There's too many things to sort out, and I don't want to sprinkle more confusion from that kiss onto the pile.

I think... I think I should forget about the kiss a little for now, just for now, and start to figure things out with Sasuke.

Otherwise, that kiss will just become another mess.

If I'm making any sense.

I just want to know what was wrong with Sasuke.

When I look back to focus on Sasuke again, I see something in his eyes, and I think he's thinking the same thing. His expression looks more down to earth than earlier, like he's just realised where he is again. Just like me.

And then I love how he understands again. It's uncanny.

So then I start off.

"Sasuke... Wh..." I stutter quietly, I'm not all that sure what to say.

But then I realise it's simple. Real simplicity.

"Sasuke, what's wrong?"


	13. It's not solved

sorry and thankyou.

sorry for the unoriginal cheese and corn in this chapter.

- - - - -

"Sasuke, what's wrong?"

I sit somewhere between the gear-stick and the passenger seat, legs sprawled in the avenue of spaces inside Sasuke's modest car. But I don't feel the discomfort. I don't feel much of anything physical apart from the burning remnants on my lips, like ash left from a happy fire. My two, blood-drunk lips are the only grasp of physical life I have left. Everything else is non-existent. If I close my eyes, it'd be easy as hell to imagine that my lips were my sole being, that maybe I was just a floating form of two red, red lips, lost in the never-ending mass of the universe somewhere.

I guess that's what Sasuke's kiss does to me. Like some kind of superpower. And I marvel at it for a split moment before my conscience drags me back down to the actual reality of the situation.

And my heart begins to skip awfully rhythmic beats, and now I can feel that too. But nothing else. Just my heart and my lips lost in space.

"I..."

My eyes ricochet back to Sasuke's face.

I keep getting distracted. I'm too jumpy, too jittery, too fucking inappropriate for this atmosphere we've created together. I'm blowing it. I'm going to ruin this simplicity and taint it with my obnoxiousness because frankly, I'm a natural idiot.

"Naruto," Sasuke says, and my drifting eyes jolt back to see his face, all beautiful and ordinary, and his eyes, all black and confused, searching and switching; a mass of poetic adjectives all rolled into one, really. "I'm losing myself."

Sasuke's losing himself.

And I get it. I really get it. To someone else, that answer may have seemed pitiful, pathetic, a melodramatic, selfish cry for attention. But _I _get it, so fuck cares if you don't. Fuck cares.

Sasuke looks as if he's about to continue, but cuts himself off and looks back over the horizon of his steering wheel beyond the windscreen. His hand comes up to sweep his fingers back over and through his dark hair before he lets out a frustrated, almost defeated sigh.

I need to say something.

"Sasuke," I start with his name. "...I... I know what you mean." And then I worry over if that was the right thing to say. Does it make me seem arrogant? Or uncaring? Or cliché? Like I'm just saying it because I have nothing else to say? I open my mouth to say something more, something meaningful, but I can't think what and cut myself off, just like what Sasuke did moments ago. Here, in this bruised car, in the dead cold of night, we're grasping hopelessly for words that don't exist.

I think it's minutes before Sasuke turns to look at me again with a blank, unreadable expression on his face, and it almost hurts me to realize how empty he looks now. And then he opens his mouth and his voice comes out, "Do you?"

Do I?

He says it in a way that actually makes me falter in the confidence in the understanding I thought we had just minutes ago. So completely disbelieving. Do I have it all wrong? Is Sasuke feeling down because of something that I can absolutely _not _relate with?

But I thought we were just crying, right here, right in these cramped seats between these gear-sticks and glove boxes and gas pedals barely moments ago. Why is it then, that right now, all of a sudden, it feels like he's become so far away, too distant for me to reach and touch? We'd shared something, other than just a kiss, and in that crying, in that minute of utter understanding, it felt like he'd promised me he'd show me what's hiding under his skin, what's making him feel so upset.

He fucking promised me.

And I'm not going to let him go back on that.

"Yes, Sasuke," I say, somehow confidently, and I try to make my voice somehow force him to look at me because he's still staring away at the glass of his windscreen. "Yeah, I fucking get it."

He still doesn't look at me. I can feel him drifting away from this, avoiding telling me what's been wrong, I can feel it. And I don't want him to.

Yeah, we're best friends and all – closer than the strands of noodles in a dry packet of ramen – but honestly? It's usually _me _who's doing the gut-spilling. Sometimes, I feel utterly guilty because of it, but other times... I get pissed off and a little worried. I feel like I'm the only one who's really opening up in this friendship and I get a little paranoia from it all. You wouldn't believe how relieved I was when he came to me after Gaara, and at the time, I was fucking glad he was capable of having some kind of feeling as well as worrying for him.

So these rare, rare times when Sasuke is in need of something, of some comfort or anything, I need to grasp a hold of. I can't let him act like nothing happened tomorrow, and that feels like what's going to happen with the way he's acting now.

"Sasuke," I start again, hesitant and not so harsh this time. "There are times when I lose all sense of what I'm really doing here, and if what I _am _doing is really what I want to do. I think, there's nothing that is making me feel this way, making me want these things." I don't even know what I'm saying anymore. My thoughts and my words are meeting each other, mingling, bumping and grinding with each other at some party that I didn't know about.

"I can change my mind so _easily_when I realise this – just like that, I can change what I want... like... like I have no soul or... or I'm missing something in me. There's nothing really that makes me want to wear these jeans, or play guitar, or go out with Sai." He turns to look at me.

"There is nothing." I look at him. "Sometimes, I feel this way. Like I'm losing myself. And you of all people should know this Sasuke. Even though I've explained this so crappily, I know you know. All that stupid fretting over stereotypes and nonsense that I always annoy you with, all that rubbish is from this... this lack of my own opinion."

There is a small quiet in the car for a split moment.

"...So, what do we do?" Sasuke's voice is quiet and crackly, barely there.

"Apart from," my words continue as if he hasn't spoken because I'm not quick-witted enough to render my unconscious plan of a speech to adapt to his interruption. "Apart from, when I'm with you," and if this wasn't what it is, I would've smacked myself with how corny I'm becoming. "When I'm with you, Sasuke, I don't even need to think. I don't get the chance to think about it because for some reason, you make me not care. You make me feel okay with wanting the things I'm wanting right now, and I don't feel the need, or in fact, the _want_ to change what I want," I grin a bit. "If I'm making any fucking sense."

Hold on a minute. When did I realise all this?! When did my mind register that Sasuke is the fucking _solution _to my issues? And why didn't it tell me sooner!

I feel my eyes twitch sub-consciously away from him to the dashboard and I blink dumbly at it for a moment. I don't even realise I've begun frowning and scratching my head before Sasuke lets out his single, touching chuckle at me and my hand freezes in my hair and my eyes once again jolt back to his face like an elastic band being snapped.

"You're too fucking cute," Sasuke says. And for some odd, odd reason, even though we always do this to kid each other, this joking and flirting, if you want to call it that... for some odd, odd reason, there's something that made his words feel... different, for lack of my vocabulary. More... sincere. And my hand falls slowly from my hair and my eyebrows fall apart as my eyes widen fractionally. It was like he said it to himself more than to me, and...and... it's making me think too much about it.

Before I can do anything, I see Sasuke's shoulders bounce once again as he breathes out another chuckle down onto his window. I watch it fog up on the glass; the shape of his laugh. He's not facing me again.

"You're too fucking good of a friend," he continues. "You know too much. You're not supposed to know so much."

My face hurts, and I realise it's because I'm smiling so hard. There's a full four minutes of just silence and me smiling in his car and I know Sasuke isn't going to say any much more about losing himself. But what he's said is enough for me. In a way, it's like I've won this round, like I've showed him that I _do _understand how he feels no matter what he thinks.

And though maybe we don't understand everything right now, though we're probably still losing ourselves, there's something reassuring, something so thoroughly relieving in the fact that we understand _each other_.

I'm sorry if I make zero sense, but I can just feel it. I can just feel it, and I bet Sasuke can too.

Sasuke still sits staring at his window and it begins to annoy me a little. I can't tell if he's as happy for the moment as I am, but I can tell that he's severely less down than he was before, and I take pride in knowing that I had a part in that. I try to re-lighten the atmosphere in here, try to cheer him up a little bit so we can figure things out together more tomorrow.

"Sasuke..."

His head turns back to look at me, and I see that he isn't smiling much at all. But I guess I shouldn't have expected much of one.

"I think you bruised my face."

His eyebrow twitches up, a silent question, and I'm glad to see him show some expression.

"By making me smile so bloody hard," I complete with a small chuckle that makes my cheeks stretch even more, and I think maybe he really has bruised my face.

Sasuke finally breaks out a tiny smile and shakes his head, fingers going through his hair tiredly once more. I'm just able to hear him breathe out, "Idiot," before my bones are crushed comfortably and Sasuke's lean body is leaning over the gear-stick and his arms are wrapped around my shoulders somehow awkwardly, but fitting strangely neatly. My back is pressed into the passenger door and his face is pressed into my neck in a way that makes this feel like... like some kind of submission from him. Like maybe, he's saying, "I give up. Maybe I will spill my guts on you from now on."

And right now, I feel exactly like how I told him he makes me feel. Like I don't give a damn what everyone else thinks about anything I do... I feel less like I'm losing myself, and more like I'm living myself.

And I love it.

I love this carefree... carefree...

"...Sasuke, what's the... the, er, noun for being carefree?"

I feel his lips move on my neck. "...Carefree...ness? No... How about carefreedom?"

"Yeah, okay," I say. "I love this carefreedom you bring me, Sasuke."

He smiles, and I know this because I can feel his lips stretch on my neck, and I know, he understands what I'm talking about... and all over again, I'm bowled completely over by how much we really understand each other.

We're still hugging when I look at the luminous digital time and it's three in the morning. Once my mind realises what time it is, I feel my body begin to lag and my blood flow slower in my veins. I'm tired. Tired as hell. And I don't feel like moving an inch.

Maybe we'll find the answer to our so-called problems after sunrise, maybe it will come to us next month. I don't know. I don't know if we'll ever find ourselves solidly, or at least, myself. I don't know. I don't know how Sasuke, someone who I admired as being to true to himself, so confident in his personality, I don't know how he started losing himself. I don't know a lot of things.

Right now though...

I know I'm okay.

I know I'm okay with Sasuke here, and with our understanding, and if nothing changes, I'll always be okay.

My eyelids droop heavily, my body feels hotter, welcoming me into dreamland and right before my eyes shut on me, I catch the time; three minutes past three.

It's black for a moment.

And then, with my arms wrapped around my most important person and his arms wrapped around my bones, I...

fall.

asleep.

- - - - -

is it that obvious that i don't believe in this anymore?


End file.
